


Kings of the Sabbat

by sophluorescent



Series: Eclipsicals Verse [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Demon Summoning, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Major Character Injury, Resurrection, Rituals, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophluorescent/pseuds/sophluorescent
Summary: Balance is never forever. There’s always something waiting to tip the scales.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Series: Eclipsicals Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592320
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2019/20





	1. Mortal

**Author's Note:**

> A companion for _The Ballad of Bells and Hounds_! I **highly recommend** reading Ballad first if you're going to read this work. I don't go into a lot of detail with mechanics that I already explained/discussed in Ballad and I definitely refer to Ballad's events multiple times throughout this work! 
> 
> This work is unbeta-ed, so please be aware you're probably going to encounter some grammatical errors moving forward (that being said, it'll eventually be beta-ed!)
> 
> Please keep in mind the tags, but otherwise, I hope you enjoy reading.

“The Federation has sent us summons,” Yixing mumbles, his voice washing over Jongdae like water. “To my understanding, it’s an incredibly private affair,” he continues, placing his phone back down on the coffee table.

Jongdae lets them sit for a moment, the silence a welcome reprieve. Then, “Any idea what it could be about?”

“Baekhyun’s been quiet, I haven’t been able to summon him for very long, as of late. Could be trouble in the hells and the realms beyond them,” Yixing murmurs. He’s grown into his own, fully adopting his acquired magic and its heritage. Jongdae’s proud of him, but it’s bittersweet. He remembers Yixing’s beginnings, knows that coming to love his magic was hard for him.

“Then I suppose we should attend. Things will be tense since our last summons.” 

“Not as disastrous as the first meeting we ever had was,” Yixing says, reeling Jongdae all the way back to the beginning, back when the veil had just been repaired. Even once they finally secured the alliance, the Federation and the Universal Coven had always been on rocky ground with one another. Devoted to the same cause, yes, but with differing ideas of how to secure success. Over the centuries, it lead to disagreements, some worse than others, none as bad as that first meeting.

Jongdae snorts, rising up from his position at the edge of a summoning circle. He quickly banishes the daemon (a duke of the seventh hell) and blows out each of the candles surrounding the circle. Yixing helps him clean up, scooping crystals and talismans off the floor and shelving them once more, casting both protective and anchoring spells on each item as he returns them. Jongdae breaks the circle’s chalk boundaries and utters a final banishing spell just to ensure that the hells have no residual hold on their world.

“Have they said where we’ll be meeting?” Jongdae asks as he walks upstairs to change into something more presentable. 

Yixing follows him up. “We get to stay local, at least, it seems we do,” he explains. “I can’t really say since they’ve given us so little information.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Jongdae asks seriously, stripping off his loose T-shirt and swapping it for a silky fabric and expensive cut top. “You know the Federation better than I do.”

“It’s been a couple centuries,” Yixing mumbles, “it has to have changed by now, hm?” Jongdae scoffs, but Yixing doesn’t offer any further complaint. He holds his tongue, thinking about the Federation as he’s interacted with it. “The current members are the farthest removed from our original alliance. Very few of them have any living relatives that remember that time, if any. Many are new recruits, what with magical blood becoming more diluted in mortal populations, you have more people that can see magical folk but who lack any magical capabilities,” Yixing explains.

Jongdae listens, nodding along, “So what you’re saying is that if any meeting was going to be a trap, this is  _ likely  _ to be the one?”

Yixing hums, “It would seem it, but I didn’t read any animosity off of the message they sent—I mean, beyond what they typically give me.” Jongdae snorts, buttons his pants, and turns. 

“Jewelry?” He asks. Yixing nods.

“Again, I don’t think it’s a trap, but it’s best to be prepared, right?” Yixing says. Jongdae agrees and turns, unclasping one of their jewelry boxes. “I’d go with stun-resistant charms, sensory charms, and a few healing charms,” he says. Jongdae already has most of those particular pieces pulled out of the box. He passes a few necklaces, a pair of earrings, and a bracelet, to Yixing, then turns and grabs himself a couple of necklaces of varying lengths and a matching pair of earrings.

They look like they’re flaunting their wealth to anyone unaccustomed to magical folk. But, to anyone who is accustomed, they’ll recognize the power the two witches are wearing. It’s more of a deterrent than anything else. Confrontation is always easier to avoid, after all.

“Ready?” Yixing asks. Jongdae grins, his lips curling like a cat’s. He nods and grips Yixing’s arm. Their stomach’s turn as they’re dragged off the mortal plane and into the in-between. Normally, the journey between places happens in a blink of the eye when using the plane of limbo, but this time, something changes. 

Jongdae panics. In all the years he’s been alive, with his youth frozen in time, he’s never experienced  _ this,  _ especially on such a regular spell. However, but a second later, he feels familiar hands curling around his shoulders, an almost purring voice sounding in both his and Yixing’s ear—a head peeking between the two of them in greeting. 

“Where are you two off to?” Baekhyun purrs in his velvety voice, whisking them out of limbo and into his realm of sand and obsidian. He doesn’t take on his titan-like form, resolving to remain reflective of a human much like Jongdae and Yixing. He sprawls out on his throne, pulling the both of them up onto his lap. 

Yixing sighs, but Jongdae’s trained himself to Yixing’s emotions well enough to hear the relief in that sigh too. “You’re going to make us late to our meeting,” Yixing says. Baekhyun cards his fingers up through Jongdae’s hair even as Yixing pulls away, standing upright. Jongdae’s missed Baekhyun and curls into him readily, not at all worried about missing a few minutes at the meeting.

“Well, let’s see if Baekhyun knows something first,” Jongdae suggests, he looks around and finally faces Baekhyun properly. The daemon looks as he always does, striking against the moody backdrop of his throne room. His eyes glint as they meet Jongdae’s and then, his mouth stretches into a grin. 

“Knows something about what?” He questions.

“Why the Federation suddenly wants a meeting with us, specifically a very private one? It seems almost completely off the books,” Yixing asks, giving up on rushing his way out of Baekhyun’s realm. He can still feel the tug of limbo on his limbs, though, which worries him.

Baekhyun’s smile falls, replaced with a firmly set line. He looks away from the two witches, staring off into nothing. Finally, though, he sighs. “Someone is untethering the eclipsicals and summoning the princes,” he explains, “I’ve been creating golems to keep order in the courts, but…” he trails off. 

He returns his gaze back to Jongdae and Yixing, “It’s been a millennia since an eclipsical has had to reach into the hells and keep  _ balance _ . It’s not something we do. We exist within the oblivions primarily so that we don’t  _ have to  _ deal with hell.”

Yixing’s eyebrows knit and Jongdae looks half ready to ask a torrent of questions, but the pull of limbo grows further, and Baekhyun’s attention is suddenly elsewhere. “Hell isn’t safe right now, nor is my realm,” Baekhyun states sharply just as limbo tugs Jongdae and Yixing back into the in-between. Before Baekhyun’s realm disappears, they watch a crisp, golden disk cut through Baekhyun’s neck.

When they reappear in the council room as the Federation expected of them, they are heaving and hacking. Jongdae, who’s experienced Baekhyun’s banishments with stark clarity, is the first to straighten up, his hand clasping the back of the meeting chair in a white-knuckled grip. Yixing coughs and heaves a few minutes longer, blood dripping from his lips. Eventually, he too stands up straight, reaching out to take Jongdae’s offered hand. 

“That doesn’t normally happen,” Jongdae finally rasps, folding his hands in his lap as Yixing collapses into the seat next to him. Across the table, the Federation representatives lips’ curl in disdain. All apart from the youngest couple. Jongdae catches their eyes, commits their faces to memory. They look familiar enough, probably grandchildren of people Jongdae’s worked with in the past. “But it seems as if… things are imbalanced right now,” he gives as way of explanation, glancing over at Yixing, who still looks winded from both their travel and the pang of losing Baekhyun to…  _ whatever _ . 

He can’t devote attention to it right now, not when he has an audience watching his every move for sign of weakness. Someone, the youngest at the table it seems, clears their throat, an awkward smile spreading across their lips. “Wong Yukhei,” he introduces, “it’s good that you’ve showed up.” Jongdae nods, Yixing following him a beat later, acknowledging the welcome. The rest of the table soon joins in. Lee Taeyong, Kim Taeyeon, Lee Jieun, Park Yoona _ ,  _ and when the door opens, Kim Jongin also enters the room. 

Yixing grins openly once he notices, then stands to reach out for Jongin. They meet in a hug, awkward with the chair in the way, but happy nonetheless. “You look grown up,” Yixing murmurs when he pulls away. 

Jongin grins shyly, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. Two hundred years give or take?” A few of the hunters at the table look shocked by the number.

Yixing nods, “Sounds about right. Hopefully it’ll be another couple hundred years before you have to call us up for something  _ big  _ again, hm? Surely, that’s why we’re here today. Something’s gone wrong?”

Jongdae cracks his knuckles, cocking his head, inviting conversation. Jongin takes his seat across from them, with Wong Yukhei to his right and Kim Taeyeon to his left. “Unfortunately, yes. We’ve had seven hunters eviscerated in the last seven days. Their blood and… organs have been used to create what appears to be summoning circles.”

“There’s either two older killings or two more killings to come,” Jongdae cuts in. When he garners looks of confusion, he explains further, “daemons and witches both like to complete things in sequences of nine. It goes back to the rule of three, which used to be regarded as the ‘golden rule’ of magic.”

“Seven’s a holy number in most regards, a daemon physically  _ couldn’t _ stop there and a witch like you describe probably wouldn’t like to either,” Yixing adds. 

Jongin frowns, “We’ve had no one reported missing.”

“Then assume you’re about to find another body, and then one after that if we can’t root out the cause within the day,” Jongdae says simply. “Is there anything else?”

“Sehun-ah was untethered, according to Kai,” Jongin says quietly. Jongdae’s eyebrows raise incredulously. “Whatever it was attempted to cut my ties to Kai as well, but Sehun’s release from the pact caused too much turbulence for them to carry out the same on my pact with Kai.”

Quiet in the meeting room. Yixing shakes his head, “Baekhyun mentioned untethering too. Kai explained it as releasing an eclipsical from a pact?”

Jongin nods. 

“That’s not possible,” Jongdae states, unbelieving, “the only way an eclipsical can be released from a pact prematurely is for their summoner to be killed.”

Jongin shakes his head, “I’ll swear on it, Jongdae. He’s not mine any longer. It’s like he doesn’t even recognize me.”

“You’ve seen him since?”

“He destroyed my house, nearly killed me. Kai banished him, but barely.”

“Sehun is not that strong of an eclipsical,” Jongdae says, “Kai should have been able to banish him easily.” Jongin shakes his head again, shrugging. 

Yixing reaches over and places a hand on Jongdae’s arm, “Jongin’s just telling things as he knows it, Dae. Perhaps eclipsicals  _ can  _ be untethered. It’s not as if Baekhyun’s been with us long enough to know.” He looks back at Jongin resuming a face of stoicism, seriousness. “Are the scenes where you found the bodies still untouched.” Jongin nods. “Then, we’d like to explore them.”

“Yukhei and Taeyong will accompany you. They knew the deceased,” Jongin directs. Both of the young hunters get to their feet. Jongdae also gets to his feet, Yixing following him. 

“Should we travel through limbo?” Yixing wonders, instantly recalling the ache in his chest, the turning of his stomach, the pain of Baekhyun’s banishment. The only reason it hadn’t been more visceral is because Baekhyun was simply killed within his own realm. It’s not as if he was ripped off the mortal plane. “Baekhyun said the hells weren’t…”

“Traveling limbo isn’t the same as the first circle of hell. We should be fine,” Jongdae says stubbornly. Yixing blinks, but doesn’t argue. They outstretch their arms for the two hunters, who look between themselves, then to Jongin. He gives them a little nod of encouragement, and so they take the two witches’ arms. “Picture the place you need us to be and that is where our magic will take us. Focus and tell us when you’re ready.”

Taeyong gives them the go-ahead a minute later and Jongdae launches them into limbo. This time the gut punch and stomach-turning is normal. They arrive in Taeyong’s intended location in the blink of an eye. Yukhei staggers into the grass to dry-heave uncomfortably. Taeyong looks to be just barely holding down his sickness. 

Yixing moves on into the house, Jongdae following close behind them. The scent of putrid flesh hits unpleasantly. Jongdae casts a masking spell, then conjures the scent of jasmine and roses. Once the smell is cleared away, they can actually focus their attention on the scene at hand. Indeed, the hunters were right when they said that the bodies had been disemboweled and then arranged to look like summoning circles, spot on, actually.

“This is the circle for Prince Seire,” Yixing recognizes. 

“He does the will of the conjurer and tends not to be malicious. I’m surprised this is the scene at his circle,” Jongdae says just as the two hunters enter the room. They listen quietly, watching as the witches walk around the scene. 

Yixing’s eyes rove the scene. It’s been a long time since he’s looked at things from a hunter’s perspective, but perhaps that’s what he should do right now. “There was no fight,” he says suddenly. “No confrontation. Look around the room. Nothing is out of place. The only thing suggesting that  _ anything  _ happened at all is the human carnage, but the room itself is in stasis,” he points out. 

Jongdae nods slowly, then reaches out and places his hand just inside one of the gorey circles. Instantly, the floor begins to bubble and great talons rise up, latching around Jongdae’s wrist. 

He curls his lip and hisses a banishment. The circle shudders, but does not close, the talons continue to tug. Jongdae stays firmly rooted to the spot, but his eyes flash with shock. Yixing echoes his earlier banishment, extending his will over the circle as well. It takes a few seconds, but the circle finally dims and breaks. 

Jongdae rises up. “We’ll break the circles at the other locations as well. Tell whoever you need that the bodies can be collected once the magic is banished,” Jongdae directs. Both of the young hunters nod. Yixing holds his arm out for the hunters again. 

“We’ll split up for now. When you’re done, meet back at the manor?” Yixing asks. Jongdae nods, and so their work begins.

***

Jongdae arrives back home a little later than Yixing, his shoes clicking lightly across the floorboards. Yixing glances up from his book, relaxed against the couch.

“Something’s very wrong,” Jongdae says quietly. “What princes did you have?” 

“Vine, Asmodai, and Balam,” Yixing says. Jongdae curses under his breath. “Should we try to summon Baekhyun up?” Typically, they can just call Baekhyun into their realm, but their connection to him seems stretched thin. More often than not, it’s as if he cannot even hear their call.

They deliberate. Then, Jongdae nods. Yixing gets up from the couch and follows him into the left-wing of the great house, which is designed to host a permanent summoning circle for Baekhyun. As they walk in, the candles set up around the room blaze to life, casting a smooth golden glow amidst the silver moonlight streaming through the windows. 

Yixing sits at one side of the circle, Jongdae across from him, and the summoning begins. The Blood Moon’s typical offerings are numerous, but because Baekhyun is already bound to them, they keep it simple using pomegranates, wine, and myrrh. 

Jongdae opens the chant, practiced in the art of summoning. Yixing knows enough to get by, has memorized the circles and most of the necessary banishments, but he doesn’t often trust himself to actually secure their safety. Doesn’t trust himself to perform the perfect spell. But Jongdae had thrust himself into studying summoning circle from even the most obscure of places. He has an impressive repertoire of experiences so far. 

His attention is drawn back to the present when the circle begins to thrum with energy. Jongdae’s eyes roll back in his head, his body keeling forward into the circle. 

Before he can hit the floor encircled by chalk, arms reach out and steady him, pushing him back out of the circle, back into safety. Baekhyun, the Blood Moon, stares at them, his skin sparkling with comets and nebula, his eyes great red discs against the night sky that molds him. There is a glowing line drawn round his neck, about the place where Yixing had watched the disc cut through earlier. 

Baekhyun appears almost… tired. His movements are sluggish and he has yet to speak out and greet them. “Baekhyun?” Yixing questions.

The daemon turns wordlessly, then, smiles. His starry skin melts away as he resumes his mortal appearance, a muted tan and warm brown eyes. Jongdae groans, resuming himself finally. “Haven’t I seen enough of you two for today,” Baekhyun murmurs playfully, letting his head hang down so that Yixing can reach out and ruffle his hair. 

He almost seems to purr at the show of affection. “Surely you’ve missed us,” Jongdae murmurs, reaching out to pet Baekhyun as well, as if he were a pet. He’s not, though sometimes he acts it. 

“I have,” he reveals unabashedly, crawling out of the circle and into Yixing’s lap, pulling Jongdae along with him until they’re all smushed together. “It’s so much  _ easier  _ in your world,” he murmurs. 

“We felt you… die,” Yixing reveals. Baekhyun sighs, rubbing circles into Yixing’s thigh and Jongdae’s back. “You never told us that hell’s fighting poured over into your realm.”

“It doesn’t. Not unless an eclipsical is leading the legions,” Baekhyun says. “Sehun has been making trouble.” 

Jongdae pulls out of Baekhyun’s grip and sits upright, instantly all business, “Jongin mentioned that Sehun was untethered. That their pact was broken. How is that done?”

“A summoner’s pact is only as powerful as the pact’s devotion. For example, our pact is subservience. I am  _ yours _ , but you are mine—you’ve been tainted by my magics. It runs through your blood. In other words, we have a very powerful pact. Jongin is only pacted because a friend gave up his life in order to link Kai to Jongin. And where Kai goes, Sehun goes,” Baekhyun explains, “Sehun was pacted to Jongin through a proxy, and Kai is pacted to Jongin through residual magic—the pact was already completed, technically speaking, and so there would be no consequences if the pact broke.”

“So, you’re saying that Sehun was easy to untether because the thing that bound him to the pact in the first place wasn’t strong enough? Strong enough against  _ what?”  _ Yixing questions. 

“Another summoner’s magic. Technically, if I were to be summoned by someone who exceeded all three of our power, my pact could be broken. And when a pact is broken, the eclipsical returns to its natural state, a blank slate of energy. We do not remember our previous pacts.”

“You remembered my mother,” Jongdae argues.

Baekhyun cocks his head, “Your mother summoned Hyeon, not  _ us _ . I have no complete memory of her, only fragments.” A sigh, “Regardless, the hells are… in disarray.”

“Should we be worried about an untethering, then?”

“Not of someone exceeding our power. It’s not humanly possible, even if that summoner were to pact the other eclipsicals. Our magic has the power of the oblivions, the hells, and the heavens, even if Yixing has been cut off from their whispers,” Baekhyun says, eyeing Yixing curiously. “What you should worry about is an assassination. If either of you are killed, I’ll be able to resurrect you as a prince within my court, but at that point our foundation will be shaken. It’ll be easier for whatever summoner that’s causing all these problems to actually steal me.”

Yixing sucks in a breath. “If that happens, where we’re threatened,” he looks to Jongdae, “You need to be the one to survive it.” 

Silence as Jongdae processes his words, then, he’s arguing, shaking his head. “Why are we thinking of the worst case scenario already. And why are you the one that has to die?”

“I can’t summon the Blood Moon,” he says smoothly. Baekhyun hums, agreeing ever so quietly. Yixing huffs, “you can. And if something’s trying to play God, you’re going to need to untether Baekhyun from  _ them. _ ”

“I would have died without you there last time,” Jongdae argues, but it’s a losing fight.

“I gave it the last push, and it was hardly artful in how I did it. Besides, that was the first time you’d ever summoned something as powerful as Baekhyun. You could do it much more easily now that you’re more experienced,” Yixing counters. Jongdae whines a little longer, but he’s lost this argument.

Baekhyun makes a sound deep in his chest and stands up, extricating himself from Yixing’s arms. “Now that you’ve solved that, I’m hungry and the two of you are tired. A soaking is in order.”

Baekhyun’s come to make bathing a ritual with them. Considering they are witches, it works out. They have all the spices, crystals, and intents that make bathing a more spiritual experience than the typical cleaning ritual. Baekhyun bounds up the stairs, disappearing. Jongdae looks to Yixing, quirking a smile. Baekhyun always gives them whiplash. One moment, it’s all serious, the next, he’s relaxed, cuddly even. 

They set a few sensory and protection spells around on the ground floor before heading upstairs after him. The property already has impressive wards meant to keep both witches and daemons out, but what with the strange experiences they witnessed just today, and from what Baekhyun’s said, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Even if something tears down the wards, having the additional protective spells will be helpful, if only to delay whatever that something is. 

Baekhyun’s already drawn the bath and he’s folded his red drapery off to the side, sitting proudly nude at the side of the bath. “I’ve chosen lilac, magnolia, and mint,” he says. Indeed, the bath smells lovely already. Floral with the sharp, minty scent. Around the bathtub’s ledge are all the stone Jongdae typically has set up, rose quartz, clear quartz, and selenite for the most part. Some salt, though it’s minimal.

Yixing drops his clothes first and steps into the tub, letting the warm water soak into his skin, cover him all the way up to his shoulders as he sinks into place. It’s comfortable, already inviting him to close his eyes and take a nap, but he keeps his lids from closing and directs his gaze to Jongdae.

He catches Yixing’s gaze, smiling ever so slightly. A couple of centuries has given them the time to completely familiarize themselves with each other’s bodies, but every inch of skin Jongdae reveals is just like the first time. He holds out a dripping hand for Jongdae to take and helps him step into the tub. He sinks down into the water and leans back against Yixing’s chest, sat comfortably between his legs.

Baekhyun waits until the both of them are relaxed, almost sliding into sleep, before he begins to wash them. He uses Jongdae’s cruelty-free shampoo, pumping the lavender scented shampoo into his hand, then carding the soap through each of their scalps. He massages Jongdae first, building a lather in his hair, soothing the tension out of his skull. Then, he does the same to Yixing, all the while humming a tune under his breath.

“What are you singing?” Yixing asks, his voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. Baekhyun’s song falters, then stops so that he can respond.

“An ancient hymn. My seraphs used to sing it at unifications.” He resumes his song.

Yixing nods, recalling all the daemon lore the hunters had taught him, that  _ Jongdae  _ had taught him. “That’s like marriage, right? Between daemons. But it’s not the same as blood bonds. Like what we have.” 

“Blood bonds are for marriages across the planes. They are… not eternal promises. A unification is for two daemons, sometimes more—though rarely, even if the daemon does have many lovers. It’s sharing all of one’s essence with the other. The only release from a unification is for one of the couple to be unmade—permanently banished. It doesn’t happen hardly ever,” Baekhyun says quietly. His voice is tinged with something, perhaps regret, perhaps simple sadness, but Yixing won’t question it. 

He falls quiet and lets Baekhyun pick up the song again. He eventually lifts them both out of the tub (despite the fact that Yixing is physically bigger than him) and sits them down on a towel so that he can rub scented oil into their backs and shoulders, further loosening their muscles.

When he’s done, he picks Jongdae up and carries him into the bedroom. Yixing finds his feet and follows, throwing himself onto the soft, satin sheets next to Jongdae. Baekhyun climbs in after him, settling in between the two of them, his face to Yixing’s, Jongdae’s arm wrapped over his shoulders. 

He and Yixing hold each other’s gazes for a long minute, and then, Baekhyun leans in—ever confident, ever impatient. Their lips glide together, soft and uncharacteristically sweet. Baekhyun tastes like warmth—something inhuman, but inherently sexy, passionate—whereas Yixing’s more human and still tastes like the wine he had had while waiting for Jongdae to arrive. Baekhyun’s unbothered by the taste, though.

He can never get enough of Yixing. 

He only breaks away to moan—unabashedly loud—as Jongdae smooths one of his hands down Baekhyun’s smooth chest to cup his cock while the other rolls one of his nipples between his forefinger and his thumb. Jongdae giggles lightly against his back, pressing a kiss to the skin just behind Baekhyun’s ear. 

Yixing leans forward, pressing another searing kiss at Baekhyun’s lips, then leaning even further, over Baekhyun’s shoulder, to capture Jongdae’s.

It had taken them years to build up the trust in one another that actually left room for a romance; they had been content to stay as friends and unconfident that they could have ever been anything more.

Baekhyun was the first to bridge the gap between having a freely sexual relationship and a friendship at the same time. Was the one to encourage Yixing and Jongdae to actually know each other. Was the one who showed them that first spark of romance.

He was right, in the end, that Yixing and Jongdae belonged together. Jongdae’s sharpness smoothed out by Yixing’s seriousness. His impulsivity solved by Yixing’s caution.

Baekhyun compares them to the Sun and the Moon—one fiery and frenzied, often searing, the other relaxed, cautious, steadfast, always healing. In these moments, Yixing feels like he’s right. Jongdae’s always quick. A rough lover, a playful one. Yixing has patience, wants to draw it all out.

And Baekhyun… he’s passionate, fluid, adaptable. With him between them, it’s easy to find a rhythm that works.

Yixing breaks away from his kiss with Jongdae at the feeling of Baekhyun’s mouth on his neck. Then trembles as the daemon slides lower, kissing down his sternum, then the plane of his stomach, and then sucks a mark into the dip of his hip. 

Jongdae swallows the moan Yixing lets out when Baekhyun finally kisses the tip of his dick. “You’re so sensitive tonight,” Baekhyun mumbles, “have you and Jongdae not been…” his voice trails off in favor of licking a stripe up Yixing’s shaft. He circles his tongue around the head and then, promptly sinks down on Yixing’s cock.

“ _ Fff _ , fuck,” Yixing grits out, reaching down and wrapping his fingers in Baekhyun’s hair. He’s not used to having all the attention on him. Normally, both of them are hyper-focused on Baekhyun, or he’s the one dominating Jongdae. Rarely does he give up so much control, and yet. It’s addicting, just letting go and seeing how they treat him. He tugs at Baekhyun, helps him down his cock and then back up, where Baekhyun pops off and looks up at him.

Yixing catches his gaze the next time Jongdae and he break apart, looking down. Baekhyun watches him hungrily, tongue pressed flat against the head of his dick—then again, he swallows Yixing down, holding Yixing’s gaze until he can’t, at which point Baekhyun shutters his eyes and moans. 

Yixing looks away, keening, and comes face to face with Jongdae again. Jongdae smiles, his lips lopsided and cocky, his eyebrow arched. “He’s good, isn’t he?” He murmurs, as if this is Yixing’s first time with Baekhyun. It isn’t, but Yixing’s never felt this alive, this strung-out. 

“Always is,” he gasps, his other hand flying down to the crown of Baekhyun’s head, gripping, tugging tight. He curses. “ _ Holy fu- _ don’t you want to feel this?” he says, sighing as Baekhyun pops off again, sitting up this time. His hands slide up both of their legs sending goosebumps running up Yixing’s arms. Everything’s hot, far too hot.

He kisses Jongdae then, all teeth and tongue, no finesse. Above them, Baekhyun groans at the sight. He grabs at Jongdae’s ass roughly, his grip almost bruising in its intensity. “ _ Please _ ,” he murmurs. It’s so hard to get Baekhyun to beg. He’s used to getting what he wants quickly, easily—normally, he’s just patient enough to play games. Tonight, clearly, Yixing’s desperation has rubbed off on him.

In a stunning reversal, it’s Jongdae who’s most in control, though that quickly crumbles when Baekhyun maneuvers him onto his hands and knees and presses a filthy kiss against his ass cheek. Yixing watches as Baekhyun kisses Jongdae teasingly, then as he finally puts his mouth where Jongdae wants it most.

The whimper Jongdae lets out goes right to Yixing’s groin, and while Baekhyun goes ahead and shows Jongdae his attention, Yixing palms at his own cock, watching them. All the while, he whispers praises and encouragements. Tells Jongdae how pretty he is, how well he’s doing. Tells Baekhyun to keep going, guides him on how to make Jongdae fall apart, passes him the lube to ease the slide of his fingers. 

_ “Dae _ ,” Baekhyun breathes again, finally, sitting back. He’s debauched, his hair sweaty and matted to his skin, his mouth red and plumped, his eyes blow wide with lust. His hands have returned to that starry, nightscape—he’s no longer in the headspace to maintain his visage of being human, and the thought sends heat searing through Yixing. 

Jongdae moans, then lowers himself down onto his elbows. Yixing helps him bunch a pillow up under his hips for comfort. “Fucking—Baekhyun, I’m ready,” he bites out eventually, looking back impatiently. The daemon grins, gripping Jongdae’s hips and sliding into him in one smooth thrust. Jongdae’s breath stutters out. Yixing’s not sure if it was he or Jongdae who moaned. Probably both.

Baekhyun fucks slow and hard, taking the time to pull out almost to the tip before he thrusts back into Jongdae. His hips are bruising against Jongdae’s ass, but the slide is so good. 

Baekhyun drags his gaze up from where he’s been watching his cock disappear in and out of Jongdae’s hole and meets Yixing’s eyes. Yixing feels caught, like Baekhyun is the predator and he is the prey. He’s just so intense, his body wanton, but his gaze sharp, controlled. “Come join in,  _ Xing-ah _ ,” he purrs, smoothing his hands up Jongdae’s back. 

Yixing moans, crawling forward. Baekhyun coaxes Jongdae onto his back and sinks back into him, both of them moaning in unison. Yixing takes his place behind Baekhyun and grabs the discarded tube of lube, slicking his fingers. Baekhyun takes his first finger with ease, moaning encouragement until Yixing adds a second, then a third finger. All the while, he slows down with Jongdae again, settling for slower, shallower thrusts while Yixing preps him. 

But when Yixing finally settles behind him and slides home, it’s he and Jongdae who moan, while Baekhyun just sighs contentedly and grinds his hips backwards. From there, it’s good that Baekhyun is the middle-man. He always seems to have the wherewithal, the capability, to handle himself despite the pleasure of being sandwiched between two people. 

Yixing grips his hips hard, intent on keeping up a regular pace, desperate to last long enough to make it worth the wait.

Jongdae comes first, his voice rising, then stuttering into silence as all his breath stops and his orgasm washes over him. His legs twitch on either side of Baekhyun, a breathless laugh leaving his lips as he relaxes.

They rearrange themselves again, Jongdae rolling off to the side to watch while Baekhyun drops down onto the bedsheets, arching his back attractively. Yixing groans, then leans forward, caging Baekhyun between his arms, sliding back inside of him. All control is gone. He fucks forward hard and fast, chasing his release, punching soft moans and  _ unf _ s from Baekhyun’s chest.

His hips stutter as he comes, eyes squeezed shut, burying himself inside of Baekhyun. Below him, Baekhyun rolls his hips, milking Yixing for all he’s worth and fucking his own cock into Jongdae’s hand.

He comes with a sigh, burying his face into the crook of his elbow, shamelessly riding out the aftershocks. When Yixing finally pulls away, Baekhyun laughs, delighted, and flops onto his back. Jongdae curls into his embrace and beckons Yixing to join them, but he shakes his head, standing up to get a washcloth.

“You two should really become more familiar with sex magic,” Baekhyun hums, whisking away their fluids and cleaning the sheets of cum, sweat, and lube with just a wave of his hand. “It makes cleanup so much easier,” he giggles, kissing Jongdae’s temple. Yixing laughs, crawling back into the bed, laying his head down on Baekhyun’s lap, and closing his eyes.

When he next blinks them awake, it’s dark. Their lamps have been turned off, and the moonlight still streams through their windows. 

Yixing does not wake up in the middle of the night often. Rarely ever. 

That’s what puts him on edge at first. In those few seconds, when he’s still waking up, he takes stock of what he immediately knows. Jongdae remains wrapped like a furnace around him, but Baekhyun is no longer there—undoubtedly he returned to hell shortly after they fell asleep, seeing as he  _ doesn’t  _ sleep. The next thing he knows is that everything is silent.

Dead silent. 

He can’t even hear Jongdae breathing right next to him even though he can  _ feel  _ how his breath tickles the hair at the back of his neck.

He snaps his fingers experimentally.

Nothing.

Instantly, his heart jumpstarts. He casts a spell powerful enough to break whatever deafening spell has been placed upon the house and in an instant, all of the sensors are screaming at him, their energy loud and clear. 

Jongdae wakes up in that moment, eyes wide and panicked. “What the  _ fuck? _ ” he hisses, throwing the blankets off the bed. He conjures clothes onto himself, no doubt still finding his senses. Yixing does the same, but even while his clothes are stitching themselves onto his body, he’s moving towards the bedroom door.

Now that he’s had time to take stock of the situation, he knows the wards haven’t been breached…  _ yet.  _ But something massively powerful is tearing at them, slowly ripping them to shreds. He looks back at Jongdae, eyes wide. “Our wards are going to fail. We can’t risk both of us… please leave,” he asks, pleading.

Jongdae’s jaw clenches, his eyes steely. “Not until the last second, Yixing. I’m not letting this place fall that quickly,” he grits out. Yixing shakes his head, but he knows when to choose a fight. This isn’t the time.

“Fine, then start laying traps. If they’re strong enough to take the wards down, they’ll eat through us if we try and face them head on,” Yixing directs, hurrying out of the bedroom, Jongdae on his tail. He has none of his protective jewelry on (having taken it off for the bath), but Jongdae never removes his. Yixing’s glad. Jongdae’s the one getting out of here tonight, if he can help it.

Their only real advantage is that Yixing had this manor built to protect. Jongdae had been instrumental in some of the building and design, but Yixing was the one who knew what type of magic the hunters might enlist if their alliance ever went sour. He was the one who had seen daemons when they prowled the streets, back when the veil was torn. He was the one who grew up learning seraphic magic, which was inherently defensive.

The house itself is a massive conduit, perhaps the strongest in the country, and he painstakingly wove their wards not only on the perimeter of the property, but all the way up into the very walls and foundation of the manor.

Whoever is trespassing will have to fight their way in every step of the way. 

He glances outside once he’s on the ground floor. It’s storming outside, lightning setting the sky alight, wind ripping at the trees lining the property. Sehun is probably around, if Yixing was to guess.

“I’ve trapped the back porch,” Jongdae yells above the din. Yixing responds that he’s done the same to the front porch and the threshold of the front door. Then, he takes down all of their sensory spells inside the house. The quiet is almost ominous. 

He hopes it will lull their trespasser into a false sense of security.

And then, it’s all down to waiting. He tries calling up Baekhyun, but when the daemon doesn’t respond within a few seconds, he knows it’s a lost cause. He can only hope that Baekhyun will feel their distress eventually and come to the rescue.

But Yixing and Jongdae are not weak witches. For all intents and purposes, they can put up a hell of a fight. And they will. 

It’s just shocking that anyone would dare challenge them. They have a reputation that few would ever desire to cross paths with, and yet…

The wards fall silent, their energy dissipating into the air, shredded into nothing.

Yixing holds his breath.

The traps on the front porch activate a few seconds later, and then, the door blows open but a minute after that.

Standing in the doorway is an almost translucent body like someone took a glass doll and filled it with fog. Its eyes shine like bright silver disks and it steps over the threshold, looking around the silent house. Yixing doesn’t know where Jongdae is, can only hope that he’s waiting in hiding. 

They have one chance to try and change the tide.

Sehun turns and finally catches Yixing’s eyes. His mouth curls into a smile and he lashes out. Yixing throws up his defensive spells instantaneously, pleased to see that they’re strong enough to deflect Sehun’s original attack. 

Then, another spell ripples against his protections, come from a different direction entirely. In the doorway stands a woman, dressed sharp against the storm, wind whipping her hair all about. Yixing doesn’t recognize her at all, but he can instantly feel her magic—it is hell touched.

She’s ancient, and if she’s touched by hell and here on their plane, she has had contact with the veil, or at least in drawing open the gates. It takes great skill to do so and to survive.

But, that’s not all.  _ No.  _ Her magic  _ sings  _ when it collides with Yixing’s, chiming like a cacophony of bells. Yixing can almost imagine the long howl that succeeds it. 

There’s no way.

And yet, there’s no witch who’s ever lived who has magic as powerful as this woman seems to possess… except.

But  _ how _ ?

In his distraction, Sehun takes another hit at the protective barrier Yixing had thrown up. This time, it shatters and the eclipsical is able to land a solid hit against Yixing’s head. His skull rattles, his teeth clacking together, but he manages the concentration to blast Sehun back with another powerful spell.

He aims the next at the strange witch in the doorway. She deflects it with ease, her magic visibly rippling down Yixing’s spell and tearing it to shreds in front of him. 

She casts again. Yixing dodges, but again, Sehun is back in his personal space, hands like claws, body intangible to Yixing’s physical attacks (like tearing wooden stakes out of the house’s furniture and stabbing them at Sehun). He’s half a distractor, half a threat, and while Yixing focuses on him, he glances back to the doorway in time to see the witch step inside and disappear into the lounge. 

Sehun pounces again, but this time, Yixing has summoned his blade, the one he banished Baekhyun with back when they first met, and he holds it out in front of him. Sehun’s momentum carries him into the blade and he doesn’t realize what it is until too late.

Yixing watches him stagger backwards and then crumble to the ground in a wisp of fog that quickly disappears. In the other room, he hears a gasp, followed by a clatter. 

He rushes into the room.

His reflexes aren’t fast enough. The spell hits him in the throat and sends him to the ground with a thud. 

Pain sears through him, like boiling water has been poured down his throat and is scalding him from the inside out. He feels like he’s on fire. He feels like he’s drowning. He coughs, hacking, and pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, looking out into the room.

He sees Jongdae fighting the witch now, surely having left wherever he’d been lying in wait. He’s doing well, but, as Yixing catches his eye, he’s distracted.

_ Go _ . Yixing mouths, the best he can as tears gather in his eyes and his body begins to convulse with the pain. His hair hangs down in his face, sweat gathering at his temple. Whatever spell the witch had used, it doesn’t work quickly. It is, however, effective. Yixing can  _ feel  _ his mana draining and it is the most terrifying thing he has ever felt.

He thinks back to when he wanted not to have magic. 

He can’t imagine wanting that now, not as he feels it drain from his veins along with his life.

Jongdae looks to him again, but this time, he’s made his decision. Thankfully, it’s the right one. He disappears, his body molding into nothing as he whisks himself elsewhere—a safe place, hopefully. And Yixing, he casts the final spell at the witch’s back, distracting her from even thinking of following Jongdae.

It’s not powerful enough to kill, and when she turns, she sneers, a mockery of pity written upon her face. 

She doesn’t even have the grace to put him out of his misery. Just watches as the pain ripples throughout his body and rips him apart from the inside.

When he is dead, she steps over him and out of the door.


	2. Betwixt, an Interlude

Even once he regains Sight, he cannot hear, cannot speak. He can only watch as Baekhyun pulls the threads. The daemon has a weaver’s hands, thin and delicate, precise and sure. Watching him sew Yixing’s own essence back into being is an experience both beautiful and traumatic. He’s not sure how it all works. It’s all… out of body, but it also seems out of mind as well. 

He wonders if Baekhyun merely gave him his consciousness back first. Wonders if it’s the easiest thing to resurrect, or if Baekhyun has been slaving over it for days. 

They’re within his realm, Yixing comes to realize, but not within the palace. In fact, Yixing’s never seen this portion of Baekhyun’s home, but the characteristic silver sand and obsidian monoliths give away the location well enough.

It’s a circular pavilion. A massive loom upon which Baekhyun hooks the glittering threads of the arcane, of fate, of memory. 

Yixing watches.

Watches until Baekhyun finally steps back, and then, he feels the pull.

When he opens his eyes again, he feels both nothing and everything all at once. He has a body now. Baekhyun appraises him critically, and then, he crumples forward, into Yixing’s arms. And still, Yixing feels detached. Even with the emotion the other daemon shows him.

“What am I?” He whimpers finally, his voice musical even though he feels like it should be hoarse from disuse.

“An Authority,” Baekhyun says, his voice all the more encompassing now that Yixing can truly Hear it, in all its divinity. “Someone with a place in my realm, in command of my realm. The Moon that hangs in  _ my _ Night Sky. You are the essence of an eclipsical with the past of a seraph’s child. You command power,” he breathes. But that’s not why he’s collapsed into Yixing’s arms.

Yixing can feel it now that his body is settling, his mana finding where it belongs. He can feel the  _ affection  _ Baekhyun has for him, so powerfully that it almost takes him aback. He and Baekhyun are not bound by a pact, not after Yixing’s death, and still, Baekhyun not only cared enough to bring him back, but did so in a way that gave Yixing his past, his present, and his future.

“I can remember everything,” he says slowly. Baekhyun mentioned often in the past that drastic changes in pacts, in mana, in miasm could cause memory loss. Yixing’s greatest fear, back when Baekhyun first told them he would be able to bring them back after their death, was forgetting what connected him to the daemon and to Jongdae.

“I salvaged them first, before one of the imps could gorge itself on them. I waited at the banks of the River for you. I’m so,  _ so _ sorry,” Baekhyun says, his voice uncharacteristically broken. Yixing lets it wash over him like a wave, but it doesn’t bring him any healing. He doesn’t blame Baekhyun, knew something was wrong from the start.

“Thank you… for saving them,” he breaths, sinking down to his knees as well, gathering Baekhyun up into his arms. He decides then that he’ll worry about his newfound nature later, right now, “Do you know how Jongdae is?” He asks.

Baekhyun hums quietly, “I’ve been here. He’s called to me, but it takes all my concentration to thread someone back together not only completely whole, but all possessing of their magic and memory. If I answered him, I would have lost pieces of you,” he says. Yixing understands, he really does, and he’s just aware enough to realize that the plan, all along, if necessary would be for him to die and Baekhyun to bring him back before they could go to Jongdae’s aide.

“The witch that killed me. Her magic is yours,” he says quietly. 

Baekhyun blinks long and slow, choosing his words carefully, “It’s not,  _ mine _ . When I was putting you back together, I felt it. I examined it. It  _ was  _ mine, but it’s not my essence any longer. It’s a corruption of it,” he says. “I’ve been summoned… perhaps seven times in the past—real, first summonings of the Blood Moon, not fragments of myself. In theory, it could be any of those past summoners, but… they are all dead.”

“I was dead, and now here I am,” Yixing says quietly. 

Baekhyun stares at him, then, he drops his head, conceding to Yixing’s reason, though stubbornly so.

“Which of those summoners was the most powerful?” Yixing asks.

Baekhyun rolls his shoulders, standing up. He pulls Yixing up with him, and it’s only then that Yixing realizes he’s wearing silver robes the color of the moonlight, shimmering and gossamer. They float around him as they walk, as Baekhyun thinks.

“Aikaterine was the most powerful. She was an Athenian astronomer,” he finally decides upon. “But, her magic had the touch of others gods. The magic I pulled out of you was not hers.” He goes back to wracking his brain, then huffs, frustrated. “The only other summoner that had the  _ potential  _ to let their magic grow that venomous is Sefdalina,” he says. 

What a familiar name. 

“Hypothetically, if this is her. Why would she be back?” He asks.

“Power _ , Chaos _ . If she was resurrected by a witch in your plane, she’s going to be motivated like she was at the time she summoned me and ripped apart the veil.”

“You pulled her into hell, didn’t you.”

“I ripped her  _ apart _ ,” Baekhyun hisses. “I don’t like to see my magic abused. In essence, I’m the most balanced of the eclipsicals, the glue that holds them together. She wanted a weapon. I am not that.” Venom drips from his tone. 

“And if she wasn’t resurrected by a witch?” Yixing redirects. 

“I’ll have an eclipsical or two to replace,” Baekhyun says calmly. 

Yixing can tell he already has someone in mind, but he keeps his mouth shut, wisely choosing to focus back onto Jongdae. “Can we visit him?”

“Jongdae? I can, but you cannot until he summons you, and the summoning will be taxing. You  _ will  _ forget him in that moment. The first summoning is always the worst. It strips you down to your foundation.”

“What was your first summoning like?”

“My summoner brought me up accidentally. A summoning circle drawn wrong, a word mispronounced. This was before offerings of a certain taste were developed. It was… a bloodbath,” he says smoothly. 

His great obsidian palace rises up in the distance. Around the gates, Yixing notices hellions—imps, hounds, succubus, incubus. They crawl upon the silver sand dunes, screeching and wailing as they are ought to do. Yixing, despite the power thrumming beneath his skin, can’t help but watch them with cautious eyes as Baekhyun leads him closer.

When the beasts notice him, as well, they raise their heads and watch him with something akin to awe, closer to fear or terror. 

Baekhyun extends his hand out in front of the gate, letting it swing open. The hellions stream inside, taking residency in the courtyard. Baekhyun doesn’t seem bothered, nor particularly concerned about the situation. Yixing realizes why once he steps through the gates. Baekhyun’s palace is overrun with the creatures of hell. “The legions of the missing princes,” Baekhyun explains. “My golems were not capable of keeping order, so I’ve brought them all here.”

Yixing looks around, struck by the sheer enormity of the masses. Then, Baekhyun is pulling him through the palace archway and into the obsidian black. His clothing molds into something far more comfortable, but equally regal. Anyone who were to look at Baekhyun would know he belongs in this place, that he commands this place.

Baekhyun leads him up a familiar spire of stairs, revealing the same midnight room where he and Jongdae had stayed upon their first visit to hell. “Stay here. I’ll go to Jongdae and teach him the summons for you. I’ll prepare him for your magic and watch to make sure you do not kill him.”

“Are you still tethered to him?” Yixing asks suddenly. Baekhyun nods sharply. They don’t know how long that will last though, not with everything going on. Baekhyun leans close, kisses him softly, and then, he disappears in the blink of an eye.

In his newfound solitude, Yixing turns to the great mirror decorating the otherwise fairly empty room (there is only the bed, a small table, and the balcony otherwise), and inspects himself. In Baekhyun’s realm, he’s pleased to see that he appears more human than creature. His skin has a ghostly pallor to it, but otherwise, it is his own body. He has the height of Baekhyun’s titan form, making him unmistakable to the rest of the hell spawn, and he’s dressed royally. 

His moon robes float around him like a cloud. Moonflowers and silver bells crown his head. Light blue shimmers around his eyes. He feels like a corpse, in some regard, devoid of the blood that would give him life, but his appearance is too sharp, too beautiful to match the rot associated with death. 

Time passes differently in the realms and the mortal world, he remembers as a tugging feeling begins to pull at his heart. He watches in the mirror as he seems to turn into sand, disappearing in an invisible breeze.

When he opens his eyes, he screams.


	3. Arcane

Baekhyun guides his hand across the floorboards. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol watch from a short distance away, healing potions on hand, Grimoires clutched close. While Jongdae draws the real circle, Kyungsoo—thankfully—copies it down onto paper so that it will never be lost. 

“What you must understand is that once you complete his circle, he will be compelled to appear. He is at his most powerful. His soul has been consuming miasm since his corporeal death,” Baekhyun warns, “He _will_ lash out. Though he’s quite reserved, he lets his anger, his frustration, his hatred all build up inside of him. You’re going to see that release and it will be directed at you.”

Jongdae shakes his head, “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“He won’t _know_ you in that moment, Summoner,” Baekhyun says, voice sharp and inarguable. “Do not go into this thinking that you can make a mistake and not suffer the consequences. He will tear you apart.” Jongdae still doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of Baekhyun’s words, but what more can the daemon say to get it through to him.

Nothing, really. So he shows Jongdae how to draw the last portion of the circle, and steps back, placing a ward of his own around the circle. When Yixing crawls into this plane, he will not get to stay here even if Jongdae fails.

Jongdae completes the final piece of the circle and leans forward excitedly, nervously. Baekhyun watches with cold, steely eyes, as the circle begins to ripple, and then, to shine. 

Yixing crawls into their plane _screaming_. His form is clearly not what Jongdae expected. It is almost inhuman. Great rams horns curl at the side of the daemon’s skull, his fingers are long like claws, his body skeletal, ever shifting like the sand. His jaw gapes open, sand pouring from his mouth along with that horribly, wracking voice—all of his pain made audible. 

His eyes are bright silver discs, blind and confused. He’s _consumed_ by his nature, in this moment.

Jongdae wails now, jerking away from the edge of the circle as Yixing slams up against the circle’s invisible barrier, his claws scratching, grappling, tearing uselessly at the border. The summoner’s eyes are blown wide with shock, with _terror_ , at the sight of Yixing. His _lovely_ Yixing, reduced to this monstrosity. 

“Focus on the ritual,” Baekhyun reminds, his voice heavy and commanding. Jongdae glances at him, taking his attention away from Yixing. 

That’s his mistake.

There’s always one.

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol both yell out, moving forwards and slamming against Baekhyun’s ward. 

At the same time, Yixing tears open the circle, ripping apart the floorboards upon which it was drawn, and reaches for Jongdae. They begin to grapple. The floorboards open beneath them and the sound of hell rises up from the void, a dissonance of screaming, of howling, of wailing and screeching. Imps begin to wrench themselves up from the hole, their boney arms grabbing at the mortal plane, desperate to feed.

Jongdae hits Yixing with a powerful spell, the type that would kill another person, but that merely causes the newly born daemon to flinch. His jaw opens further, a gaping maw of sharp teeth, his eyes wide and shining as they look down at Jongdae.

The summoner knows that he can’t win, realizes it with stunning clarity. 

He gives up, letting the fight bleed out of his limbs, a tear slide down his face. Next to the daemon and he, an imp realizes that, with the ward, it cannot reach Chanyeol or Kyungsoo.

It turns its head to the next available human—Jongdae. It leaps, content to steal the kill from Yixing. But, it never connects. The daemon lifts its jaws away from Jongdae and turns them on the imp, tearing the hellion apart with little fanfare. 

Baekhyun watches quietly.

Jongdae scrambles away from the void into hell, dragging himself towards Baekhyun. He clutches at Baekhyun’s robes, wraps his hands in them. But Baekhyun’s expression doesn’t change. “Focus on the ritual,” he repeats, his tone flat.

Jongdae blinks, heart thumping in his chest, anger flaring in his veins. He feels… _betrayed_ , even though he rationally knows Baekhyun tried to warn him.

He turns back to the scene, watching as Yixing tears apart the remaining imps that pulled themselves into the mortal plane. As soon as the gore of the last imp splatters the floor, Yixing turns back to him. He doesn’t even spare a passing glance up at Baekhyun.

It’s as if Jongdae is the only one in the room.

In many ways, he is. He staggers to his feet.

“Yixing!” he yells. The daemon rises up on inhuman legs, crouched, waiting, grinning. 

And Jongdae resumes the chant, a binding chant, now. Weaving his promises, his pact, into the spell. Yixing snarls, moving forward.

He reaches out and grabs Jongdae’s leg, tugging him down, onto the ground, crawling up him, straddling him and leaning down, his mouth full of teeth, full of sand, full of inky darkness right above Jongdae’s face.

And Jongdae slides a blade through his throat, then reaches out with one of his already bloodied palms to smear blood and ichor together at the wound. 

It’s a reflection of how Yixing and Jongdae first came to pact with the Blood Moon. Yixing, who had never been one for ritual, who had cheated the system, tricked Hyeon into the pact. 

Yixing wails, his voice inhuman, distressed, angered. But, he cannot raise a hand up against Jongdae now, even as he slavers over him. Baekhyun’s voice cuts through his howl. “Yixing. Let it out.”

The daemon writhes backwards, its body shaking, curling in on itself.

And then, as quickly as everything had exploded into chaos, it retreats into calm. Perfect stillness.

Jongdae watches as Yixing’s body molds, as muscle covers his skeleton, as skin softens his angles. Robes the silvery color of moonlight weave themselves around him. Flowers bloom in a crown upon his head. And when he turns, those silver, disc eyes soften into Yixing’s dark, almost black, but altogether _human_ eyes. 

He brings a hand up to his neck, smearing it with gore. Blood runs black and red down his throat. Messy, chaotic. Such a contrast to all the soft moonlit colors that make up the rest of him. He pulls his hand away from his neck down into his lap where he can look at it properly.

When he meets Jongdae’s gaze again, his eyes are profoundly sad. 

Jongdae shakes his head. He should have listened to Baekhyun and focused more on controlling the summoning, but he’d grown distracted. If he hadn’t, Yixing wouldn’t feel guilty about something he couldn’t control. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Jongdae preempts. 

Yixing snorts, regaining himself and looking around the room. He recognizes both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, who still appear young despite being generations old. It’s the magical touch that keeps them youthful, just like it kept Jongdae, Yixing, and Jongin looking young. 

Baekhyun takes down the wards separating everyone. Kyungsoo notices, and stops pushing against the barrier. Chanyeol doesn’t, and so falls to the ground when they suddenly disappear. Still, he saves the healing potion from breaking in his fall, and scrambles forward to thrust it into Jongdae’s hands.

He drinks shakily, his throat bobbing with every sip of the healing tonic. 

“How long has it been?” Yixing asks. Baekhyun had never offered him that information. He honestly doesn’t know how long he’s been dead. Or… not dead, he supposes. 

“A month,” Jongdae says calmly. “I thought I lost you both,” he continues, voice shaking now. “But then Baekhyun came back and he taught me how to summon you and… Yixing. I’m so sorry.”

“Everyone’s been apologizing to me,” Yixing says quietly, “there’s no need. I made my choices.” A hum, he stands up and looks around the house. It’s not Kyungsoo’s and Chanyeol’s, which catches Yixing off guard. “Where are we?” 

“Minseok’s house,” Chanyeol supplies. “He just went out to fetch me some ingredients from his favorite shopkeeper. He’ll be back soon.”

Yixing nods, flinching at the feeling of hands wrapping around his arm. He relaxes when he recognizes Baekhyun. He folds himself into Yixing’s side, his body warm compared to Yixing’s perpetual coldness. “Is this where everyone’s been holing up while we figure things out?”

Nods around the room as everyone confirms his words. “We gave word to the hunters that the world’s teetering on the edge of imbalance again. Arranged for protective zones that they could guard against magic folk. We’ve called all of our people out of the cities to make it easier on them, but obviously not everyone’s going to leave. It’s going to be a mess,” Jongdae explains. 

Yixing sighs, “but the hunters are still working with us?”

“Yes. Jongin wouldn’t abandon us, he knows what it took last time, and this is… _so much_ bigger.” 

“It is,” Yixing says. “We think the witch is Sefdalina.”

Chanyeol sucks in a breath, but Kyungsoo and Jongdae both shake their heads. “That’s not possible.”

“It is. There are two eclipsicals that can resurrect,” Baekhyun says calmly. “I am one of them, _Lay_ is the other.” 

Jongdae’s never heard of Lay, but shockingly, Yixing has. He looks up sharply. “Lay is a seraphim, belonging to the heavens.”

“Lay is a discordant eclipsical. He’s a fractured half of an eclipsical that no longer exists. He is not a seraphim, though, his unified self did help create the seraphs that you would know. Either way, he’s imbalanced. It’s very possible that he’s grown powerful enough to begin playing with the pawns in our world and yours. He could have resurrected her.”

“What’s the other option?” Jongdae asks.

“She could have been reanimated and _partially_ resurrected by a living witch, but given her power, her magic… I find it unlikely at best, impossible at worst,” Baekhyun says.

The room falls quiet, everyone absorbing the information presented to them. 

The front door opens, everyone turning to face the newcomer. Minseok’s eyes widen, pausing in the doorway. “I don’t seem to remember this many people being here when I left,” he remarks sharply, letting himself inside and locking the door behind him with a flick of his wrist.

“Yixing, Baekhyun,” he greets carefully, showing the two newcomers acknowledgement. “I see you’re alive now, Yixing.”

“Not alive,” Baekhyun says at the same time as Yixing inclines his head, not entirely sure if that’s the right word.

“Brought back, then,” Minseok remedies. “Xiumin didn’t mention it last I saw him,” he continues.

“Xiumin does not get to pry within my realm,” Baekhyun says, eyes narrowed. “And if he’d like to try, I can see to it that he’ll not have the eyes to look in _any_ realm.” Minseok snorts, but drops the topic, setting his bags of supplies down on the kitchen countertop.

Chanyeol hurries over to start collecting his ingredients, diffusing the tension in the room. 

Yixing turns back to Jongdae. “You should visit Jongin soon, we’ll want to brief him on what we plan to do to respond to Sefdalina—to keep things from truly going to hell.”

The witch nods, “I’ll go now and summon both of you to join me. Obviously, Baekhyun knows more, and it’s best Jongin see you and realize just how powerful Sefdalina actually is.” Jongdae stands up, whispers a few directives to Kyungsoo, and then, he’s whisking himself away.

Baekhyun grips his arm, and they follow Jongdae’s trail through limbo, eventually materializing right next to him. 

Looking around, they’ve made quite the entrance. 

It appears Jongin had been visiting one of the larger training gyms of the organization when Jongdae decided to make a call. And now, with both Baekhyun and Yixing standing beside him, ethereal and foreboding, he has the attention of _every_ hunter in the three story building. 

“I’m looking for Kim Jongin,” Jongdae says, clearing his throat. At least the hunters are getting themselves prepared. They’ll need to know how to fight for what’s coming. 

They hear the sound of footsteps in the distance, then, pushing his way through the crowd, is Jongin, sweaty and intense. The hunters shift on their feet, watching as Jongin approaches them, then stops a short distance away, crossing his arms.

“What are you doing here?”

“We know more about our enemy now. Can we talk?” Jongdae asks, eyeing the hunters. Jongin’s being uncharacteristically brusque with him.

“You can talk here, what you want to tell me can be told to them as well,” Jongin says, watching him carefully. Jongdae meets his gaze sharply. 

His eyes narrow, “Of course. I forget that the hunters prefer to operate as a unit, not a hierarchy.” He rolls his shoulders back and motions to Yixing. “The witch that’s summoning the princes, who’s killing your hunters, who’s untethering the eclipsicals, is named Sefdalina. Her magic is ancient and it’s been corrupted. She killed my Blood Bound.”

Yixing raises his head, meeting Jongin’s eyes carefully. The hunter’s face falls. 

“Baekhyun has brought him back, in what capacity he could… but, if Sefdalina continues to kill, we do not all get that same chance. Even a god has limits to its power.”

A mumble ripples through the crowd.

“Sefdalina was killed. But, she is back, resurrected much like we were able to bring back Yixing, but not in the same capacity. Her will is wholly corrupted. She does not have the same free conscience as Yixing still does. She is _motivated_ by her lust for power, for her resurrector’s desire for chaos. She will have to be returned to Hell, or she will continue to kill. Her creator will have to be unmade.”

“How can we _unmake_ her creator?” Someone calls out. Jongin nods, asking the same question with his eyes.

Yixing shakes his head, “You cannot. Baekhyun and I will wage war on them within the Hells. It’s up to you to keep the balance on the mortal plane, to kill Sefdalina and remove whatever is influencing her off of your plane.”

Everyone falls quiet again, turning to their neighbors, wondering what it is they’re supposed to think, supposed to do.

“The Hells need you,” Baekhyun says, speaking for the first time. “I’ve been keeping order in the abandoned courts as well as I can, but soon, there will be a war for power. If Sefdalina does not stop tipping the scales, we’ll experience another Eternal Night. _I_ will tear open the veil and let the hells out onto your world. I would have to.” 

He doesn’t speak it like a threat, more of an inevitability. Baekhyun is the balanced eclipsical. He is designed to gate keep the realms in order to preserve them. In order to keep them from eating each other from the inside out. 

It’s not often that humans are told that divine beings _need_ them. Jongdae can see that it enlivens some of the hunters—and terrifies others.

“We can send witches in to help train you against actual spell-casters. Trusted witches. We’re on a battlefield now. Once word starts spreading that it’s Sefdalina who has come back, she will regain her following,” Jongdae implores.

Jongin holds his gaze for a long minute, jaw clenching. Then, “please do send us these witches. We’ll train hard. Can we have help setting up wards against her? To protect those that cannot fight.”

Jongdae looks over to Baekhyun and Yixing. Yixing was always the defensive spell-caster in their household, and Baekhyun’s most famous ward is the veil itself. Baekhyun nods, and in that moment, everyone’s hair rises. Magical energy ripples outwards, sinking into the very foundation of the building.

Yixing holds out a hand for Jongin. “Show us what you need protected and we’ll weave wards around them.” Jongin does as asked, letting both Yixing and Baekhyun’s magic wash over him, a web of energy that Baekhyun blankets the buildings he’s shown with. Eventually, Yixing lets Jongin go, even though he remains focused on creating the wards. They will not be done quickly. 

It’s probably best that Jongdae just get started with training now, inviting all of Minseok’s house guests into the hunter’s territory to help them prepare. After all, they aren’t doing much (other than brewing and researching) there.

Jongdae calls them, inviting them to travel through limbo and into the gym. They do so a few minutes later, Chanyeol appears with much of his traveling alchemical lab gathered up with him. Yixing and Baekhyun eventually dematerialize, disappearing like sand, but their magic remains present. “They’re probably just working out of limbo,” Minseok explains, “that way they aren’t in the way, or intimidating anyone.” Jongdae nods in understanding, then turns to the hunters.

“Well, you’re surrounded by some of the most powerful witches in Asia right now. Let’s start training,” and he sends a concussive spell whipping towards Jongin, who dodges it by the breadth of a hair. 

***

Yixing and Baekhyun rematerialize back in his realm, specifically in his throne room. However, someone occupies his throne, draped across it with all the litheness of a cat. Their skin’s a beautiful gold, a shade or two darker than Baekhyun’s human form, and they wear similar red robes as to what Baekhyun might occasionally wear. 

Yixing’s met him—Kai, eclipsical of communication—only once before. A couple of centuries ago, to be exact. For what it’s worth, Kai doesn’t seem to recognize him. Doesn’t seem to recognize the claim Yixing and Baekhyun have on one another, because he slinks out of the throne and curls around Baekhyun. Even though Kai has taken on his human form, and Baekhyun and Yixing remain in their more titan-like forms, he’s still tall enough to reach Baekhyun’s jaw, where he presses a kiss as sweet as honey. 

Baekhyun pushes him away, ever so slightly, and strides forward to take his throne, sinking into it comfortably. Now that Yixing’s watching, he notices lower tiered daemons waiting in the wings, watching the eclipsicals interact. He wonders if they’re looking for weakness, or if there’s another ulterior motive here.

But, it could be nothing. 

Still, Yixing folds himself into the dark, closer to them, farther from Baekhyun, keeping a watchful eye on them all. He’s not used to hell’s politics, even more unused to hell’s courts. He doesn’t know what to expect, nor how to act in order to retain the respect of the lower ranking daemons.

“Kai-yah,” Baekhyun says, allowing Kai to crawl into his lap. His gaze flickers over to Yixing, his face impassive. Yixing understands what he’s communicating. Kai is not like him. There is no reason to be jealous. But, Kai is still a friend of Baekhyun’s. Or, if not a friend, a lover of his at times. Yixing knows because Jongdae has mentioned it in the past, even Baekhyun has mentioned it in the past. “What brings you here?”

“She’s going to untether me soon,” Kai says, “I want you to make sure I’m not the one to kill him, if it comes down to that.”

He has to be talking about Jongin.

“If she untethers you, then she’ll turn her sights on me shortly after, no?”

“I don’t think she’ll try to pact with you, though. I think she’ll just set you loose. Perhaps, she’ll fracture you again. Pact to Hyeon but let Baek run amok,” Kai says, “You’re too dangerous a summon, already, she’s failed once. She’ll be hesitant to try again.” He sighs, “All I’m asking is that, regardless of whether you pact to her, or remain free of any pacts at all, if it comes to it, kill him for me. Or, kill me.” 

Something in his tone tells Yixing that he doesn’t mean a simple banishment. This is heavier, more permanent.

“Everyone has been making sacrifices as of late. I’ll promise to kill him, should it come to it, but I’ll not kill you to protect him,” Baekhyun says quietly. 

Half of Yixing wants to protest, to say that Jongin might be instrumental in their beating Sefdalina, but he holds his tongue. Jongin might be too important for Yixing to lose, but Kai might be too important for Baekhyun to lose. So, if Baekhyun has to choose between the two of them, there’s no doubt he would choose someone from the hells, who he has known since before time. 

Kai hums, satisfied enough with Baekhyun’s answer, and curls more wholly into his embrace. A second later, Yixing meets his eyes. They are curious, not entirely cruel. In fact, Kai himself looks much like Jongin does. He seems to command a duality between an almost lustful power and a soft relaxation. “Who is your friend, Hyun-ah?” He asks.

Yixing steps out of the shadows, walking towards the throne with quiet, clipped steps. There’s a grace in his movements. One that Kai appreciates, even relates to. “This is Yixing… my bond.”

“He’s a daemon.”

“Only recently,” Yixing says. 

Kai quirks a brow. “If you are a daemon now, then it is by Baekhyun’s will. It takes love to put in that sort of effort. You should pursue a unification. The court would enjoy it,” he says, “the King of the Oblivion and the Authority of the Night. What a union it would be.”

Yixing watches him carefully, but there’s no animosity in Kai’s gaze. The eclipsical clears his throat. “A unification is everlasting… remember that.” And then, he’s fracturing into thousands of tiny crystals.

“He’s being summoned,” Baekhyun explains. “Jongin is about to lose perhaps the only thing that would give up _everything_ for him. I hope they’ll have a chance to reconcile later on.”

“Jongin will remember him, but Kai will forget.”

“Yes,” Baekhyun confirms. How cruel that is. Yixing continues on his path towards the throne, finally sinking into the place Kai vacated. Baekhyun’s arms instantly wrap around him, gathering him closer. Yixing’s still unused to the affection, at least, in this setting. On the mortal plane, he’d gotten used to Baekhyun’s shifts between almost puppy-like enthusiasm and his more demonic glowering. Here, Yixing expects seriousness. He’s happy though, that it’s not what he expects.

He’s stressed, but having Baekhyun with him helps put his heart at ease, and this continues as hellions begin to come up to the throne and ask things of Baekhyun. Some are looking for permission to hunt in the courts that haven’t yet ceded to Baekhyun’s direction. Others are asking for a breath of miasm. Baekhyun listens to them, dotes on them as if they were his children, but then, he rises up, Yixing rising with him.

They leave the throne room and enter Baekhyun’s bedroom. Yixing’s not tired. Drained, perhaps, but he knows that sleep is not a concern of daemons. That, if they partake in it, it’s simply to mirror those around them. A matter of comforting another, not to engage in any specific purpose. 

Still, Baekhyun pulls him down into the bed, grinning. He slides his hands up Yixing’s thighs, eyes sharp and curious. Searching for permission, no doubt. 

Yixing relaxes under him, allows him to slide his hands up Yixing’s chest and disrobe him. Baekhyun kisses up his body, soft, reverent, until he reaches Yixing’s face. He presses their noses together lightly, teasingly. “What does it feel like?” He asks.

Yixing cocks his head, “What? Your kisses?”

“No,” Baekhyun hums, “you’ve had plenty of time to get used to those.” He ducks down to press a kiss to Yixing’s lips, gently coaxing Yixing’s mouth open. He sits back and drops his lips to Yixing’s neck, biting, sucking, laving over the skin. “The _power_. What is it like to become arcane?” He mumbles between kisses, his breath washing over Yixing’s skin.

He arches beneath Baekhyun, a soft gasp leaving his throat. 

“You know,” Baekhyun whispers, “there’s so much I can show you—magic that can make you _sing_ with pleasure—now that your body is not human.” He slides his hands up Yixing’s arms, warmth seeping through his palms. 

Yixing reaches up, grips Baekhyun’s hair in hand, and pulls him close, kissing him roughly. Baekhyun melts in his arms, sighing with pleasure, allowing Yixing to take control. Yixing eventually pulls away, leaning back on the bed, his eyes dark, lusty. “Then show me,” he says. 

Baekhyun regards him with half-lidded eyes, already kissed by sweat and debauchery. Then, he grins, biting his lip and sliding backwards, settling between Yixing’s legs, his mouth level with Yixing’s crotch. His hands fall to Yixing’s inner thighs, and from that moment onwards, the mood changes. It’s like he’s been electrified.

Baekhyun’s magic _pours_ into him, throwing all of his sensitivities up in sparks. Yixing doesn’t even notice when Baekhyun puts his mouth around his cock—can’t even notice the corporeal pleasure above the arcane. He feels high on pleasure, _truly_ so. Everything Baekhyun does seems to pass in quick snapshots, never fully happening, always occurring within a dream. 

Yixing jumps back to his body when Baekhyun sinks down on his cock, moan melodic. His hands shoot up to grab Baekhyun’s thighs, nails digging into the supple flesh. Baekhyun swivels his hips, watching Yixing with an air of power. 

It makes Yixing want to break him down. To truly ruin him. 

He pulls Baekhyun down to his chest, helps to flip them over. They moan in tandem as they settle into the new position. Yixing grips the back of Baekhyun’s knees, helps to push them closer to his chest, folding him down. 

Baekhyun encourages him, with words and moans. Little, goading comments like, “You can do better, Xing-ah,” or “Harder, Yixing, make me feel it.” His voice washes over Yixing, thick and heavy, so full of heat. With the added touch of his magic searing through Yixing’s skin, it’s no wonder they don’t last long.

Yixing comes first. In the climax of the moment, he feels his magic snap like a ribbon and rush through his palms.

Baekhyun goes silent beneath him, eyes fluttering shut, voice caught in his throat. He trembles in Yixing’s arms, wordlessly, silently, and then, he sighs, relaxing into the bed. He reins in his magic gradually, as does Yixing. When everything is back under control, he pulls Yixing up into a hug and cuddles him close. 

They kiss languidly, relaxed and calm. 

“What would change about this if we were unified?” Yixing asks, pulling back to look Baekhyun in the eye. 

Baekhyun’s expression changes ever so slightly. He’s guarding himself, to some degree. Yixing notices. “You and I would be… one. You would feel everything I felt. I would feel all you felt. Our magic would cease to have any separation.”

“You resurrected me, and I had the touch of your magic back when I was a witch.”

“But, it still has your individual experience imprinted upon it. A unification is a joining of the consciousness. You would receive my memories, and I, yours. You would know my feelings, and I, yours. There is still a distinction, to some regard, but it’s difficult to fully explain.”

“Were you unified before?” Yixing asks, his voice quiet, eyes searching. Baekhyun’s gaze hardens for a long moment. And then, he relaxes, all of his walls crumbling down.

“The old eclipsical of chaos and balance. _Chen_. His circles are still in some books, but…” Baekhyun trails off. “He’s the daemon that brought magic to humans. Jongdae is part of his original bloodline.” 

“When Jongdae and I first started working together, he used Chen around my hunter friends. When he was undercover.”

“His mother probably told him about his bloodline. Chen was… something to be proud of. He himself was proud, almost arrogant. He grew too arrogant. He fractured,” Baekhyun says, “I absorbed his balanced counterpart. After all, oblivion, the celestial bodies, time itself—it all has a natural order to it already, a natural balance. Since we were already unified, his magic simply became… mine.” 

Baekhyun shakes his head, “But, his chaotic half. It… didn’t mold as well to my magic. It found solace in the unpredictability of life and death, but there wasn’t enough of my magic that matched it. His other half evolved and became Lay.”

He grows quiet again. Yixing doesn’t know if he’s finished or if it’s time to offer him some word of comfort. 

Baekhyun sighs again, “What I’m saying is that I’ve been unified before, but, when two powerful beings unite without complementing every aspect of one another, it gives them room to fracture or tear apart the unification from the inside out. It’s tormenting.” He looks back to Yixing, kisses him to distract himself from the memories. 

Yixing lets him, only eventually saying, “our magic… it works together, though, doesn’t it,” between kisses.

Baekhyun hums, agreeing. 

“How is it done?”

Baekhyun pulls back again, regarding Yixing carefully. “It’s a mixing of blood and magic with the intent to become one. Both parties must truly desire it for anything to come of it.” He lets himself sink down into Yixing’s embrace again, curling into his chest. “You can’t trick someone into a unification, not like you can a pact,” he mumbles against Yixing’s chest.

They don’t say anything more.


	4. Oblivion

Jongdae’s proud to say that the hunters learn quickly. He’s only called in the most trusted magicians in the city, mostly because he doesn’t want to chance _any_ of Sefdalina’s sympathizers learning about their preparations. Irene, Yerim, and Seungwan are the only witches outside of Jongdae’s inner circle that are present now, helping to train the mundane in the art of the arcane.

Yixing also helps now. He takes on a human image and spars with the hunters, his newfound power giving him an edge that they seem unprepared for—and this is all without him _actually_ fighting. 

Today, though, they’re finally demonstrating exactly what it is going to be like. At least, to the best of their abilities. They’re gathered in the Crucible, an small, arena-style fighting ring in the basement of the Federation’s largest gym. Hunters line the edge of the ring and the bleachers set up around it. Jongdae’s been told that originally, the Crucible is where hunters would practice on live daemons, captured from the streets. Though its original purpose makes his skin crawl, he’s glad it’s here. It makes it easy now for everyone to see what they’re up against.

Yixing will take on his monstrous image, as Jongdae had first summoned him, and will… _spar_ with Kyungsoo in that Kyungsoo will be free to banish him by any means, but Yixing will stop before delivering any killing blow upon Kyungsoo. Because, after all, Yixing can reform, and Kyungsoo… cannot. 

Yixing drops into the ring, his body lengthening as he does so. When he lands in the sand below, he’s skeletal. His jaw gapes just like it had during that first summoning. His fingernails drag against the floor. He does not walk, but rather, he lurches, sometimes putting weight on his knuckles, other times shifting it back onto his feet. Looking at Yixing now, Jongdae realizes he’s never seen Baekhyun’s monstrous form. He’s seen the eclipsical as a titan, or as a representation of his magic, but never raw like Yixing appears now.

His attention is brought off of Baekhyun once Kyungsoo drops into the ring. He sizes Yixing up, but now that he’s touched the sand, Yixing doesn’t have to wait. In a flash, he’s rushing forwards. 

The fight is hopelessly imbalanced. It was supposed to be in the beginning. They had to show the hunters that what they were going up against was inhuman. It had no limit that mere humans could conceivably reach. 

The point of the demonstration is more to show how vulnerable the witch is in comparison to the eclipsicals and the princes that will be guarding her.

As quickly as the fight starts, it ends. Yixing gripping Kyungsoo’s throat, pinning him in place. Kyungsoo had put up a valiant effort, Jongdae can spot ichor dripping from Yixing’s body, but even he’s not had the practice of facing something as powerful as Yixing, at least, not head on.

Jongdae has, and he nearly failed. Now, as he helps Kyungsoo up and out of the ring, and then drops down in his place, he’s almost sure he’ll fail again.

Except, once they clash, it’s apparent that either Yixing is holding back _or_ they are more evenly matched than Jongdae had thought. Perhaps, he is just more prepared this time. And, as they dance around one another, dodging spells and claws, Jongdae can’t help but feel like perhaps, they have a chance.

He blasts Yixing backwards, using an ancient spell Baekhyun had taught him. Yixing catches his balance easily, and when Jongdae tries to use the spell on him again, he effortlessly casts a spell that negates it. 

Jongdae prepares another spell, watches it leave his fingertips. But, Yixing’s focus is elsewhere. The spell catches him in the chest, sending him backwards again, but still, his eyes do not leave whatever they are focused on.

Jongdae pauses, glancing behind himself, half concerned that it’s a trap. 

He hears Yixing move and draws his blade without thinking, turning and catching the daemon mid-pounce. Yixing grins, tapping Jongdae’s nose as he dematerializes in a cloud of sand. Jongdae falls to his knees, clutching his side, gasping. 

He knew it would hurt if Yixing were banished today, but, it was a price they were willing to pay.

When he recovers, the room is silent. 

Baekhyun drops into the ring, body melting and molding. Jongdae holds his breath as Baekhyun rises up again.

Like Yixing, Baekhyun’s monstrous form is more inhuman than human. His face is a skull, canine in structure, and fur ripples down his back. His body is lithe, somewhat lanky, and both his hands and feet are clawed. Like Yixing, he also has horns, though his are much longer, coiling down and around his throat. They’ve been growing for millenia. 

He _prowls,_ like a hunter circling its prey. 

Before Jongdae can begin the fight with a spell, however, Baekhyun twitches. At first, it’s a small thing. Jongdae pauses, then watches as it grows into something of a convulsion. 

Baekhyun’s gaze drops to the ground, no longer focused on the fight at hand.

His body ripples as if all of his muscles are stretching, tearing, snapping. His bones begin to crackle. Ichor drips out of his throat, out onto the sand.

The hunters begin to clap, ignorantly thinking that Jongdae’s cast a spell on him. That Jongdae is _winning_ the fight.

But the fight hasn’t even started.

Whatever’s tearing Baekhyun apart _shouldn’t_ be happening.

Immediately, Jongdae begins throwing up wards around the ring. He hadn’t thought it necessary before. Baekhyun would have been keeping Yixing in check if he had gotten out of control, and Baekhyun was experienced enough not to simply lose control in the fervor of the fight. But, this is beyond Baekhyun’s control.

The second he starts putting up the wards, the witches in the room understand what’s going on. Kyungsoo begins to add his wards into the mix, as do Seungwan, Irene, and Yerim. A moment later, Sooyoung and then, Seulgi are crawling out of the sand, eyes blazing like hellfire.

They catch on quickly. “He’s fighting a summoning!” Seulgi yells. Jongdae’s eyes widen. “If you banish him, he’ll be summoned in full.”

“If I don’t.”

“He’ll fracture here in the ring. Whoever’s summoning him will get one half, and you’ll get the other,” Sooyoung says, stalking forward. They both wait for Jongdae’s word. Let him fracture, or give him up completely. Face him as a whole on the other side of the battlefield, or, chance receiving Baek, his chaotic, splintered counterpart.

He’s too late to make a decision. 

Baekhyun’s body rips open. In the husk of the monster’s corpse, covered in gore, rises up a slender, glowing body. Six faces halo his head, all mirroring the dangerous grin on his _actual_ face. Wings rise up behind him coated in the sinews of Baekhyun’s monstrous corpse.

His gamble hasn’t paid off.

As Baek’s image settles, his shining eyes blinking once, then twice, he turns his head to face Jongdae directly.

_Fuck._

“Buy me time,” he yells at the two lesser daemons. Seulgi glances at him, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and then, fear. Sooyoung, though, jumps right into combat. Jongdae can’t watch them, can only trust that they’ll hold off the fractured eclipsical while he draws Baek’s summoning circle.

He knows it by heart, always having been afraid of Baekhyun splintering again. He never thought he’d have to use it again, though. He conjures a stick of chalk and uses his magic to blast away the sand in the ring, revealing its concrete flooring. 

He immediately gets to work, chanting the summoning incantation as he draws. Though he’s rushing, he’s careful to count every notch of the circle, shape every letter and curve to perfection because if he draws a broken circle, everything for naught.

A body lands in the walling next to him, cracking the concrete. Jongdae flinches, but doesn’t look to see who it is before they dematerialize, sent back to Hell to reform. He can only pray that whoever’s left will be able to hold him off. 

His remaining bodyguard screams a moment later, the sound gurgling as she’s banished. He’s out of time. The circle’s only half finished.

_Fuck it_ , he can force a pact without a circle, just so long as the incantation isn’t broken. He gets up from his knees, calling lightning into his hands even as he mutters the song-like chant under his breath. 

Baek watches him gleefully, lips dripping with ichor, claws coated in it. 

Jongdae sends electricity raining down on him. Watches as Baek almost _absorbs_ it, re-commanding the magic into his own hands. He hears someone drop into the ring next to him. He doesn’t look to see who it is, but eventually, they step into his peripheral. It’s Jongin, a seraphic crossbow held in hand. 

Kyungsoo’s voice calls out overhead, “Don’t banish him unless it’s a last resort. We can’t let her have him!”

Jongin nods, and still, Jongdae chants.

Baek is like a lion in the days of the gladiatorial fights. He stalks around them, forces them backwards. But, unlike a lion, he’s as clever as they, and has far less to lose. He darts forward, magic crackling like a whip around him, electricity spiraling towards them. Someone from above casts a spell that blocks the lightning from ever touching them, but hearing the magic clash together sounds like a train accident.

Jongdae can feel his blood begin to boil as the magical output begins to overheat their senses. But, with a final scream, he’s completed his incantation.

At that point, it’s forcing the blood pact between them. 

But, perhaps Hyeon would have been dumber to Jongdae’s tactics. Baek has experienced this before. He knows how Jongdae works. He knows how Yixing worked. He’s not going to fall for it again.

He blinds the room with white light. 

Jongdae’s prepared for him. Feels his claws wrap around his ankle and drag him down. Feels the heat of hell opening up beneath him and thinks that perhaps, this is it.

Except, a moment later, another hand is dragging him back. Xiumin, Minseok’s pact mate drags Jongdae out of Baek’s grasp and grips Baek by his long white hair, wrenching the eclipsical up into the air.

Jongdae backs away, keeping his distance, waiting for the right moment to dart in and seal the pact while Baek and Xiumin tussles, their forms more immaterial than material. As wraiths, they land blows on one another, magic crackling like a storm between them.

Xiumin throws Baek down to the ground, sending cracks rippling through the concrete. Baek screams, his voice dissonant and uncontrolled.

Again, Jongdae’s made aware of his fraying edges. His skin is heating up, and that’s with all his protective charms. With a quick glance to Jongin, he realizes the hunter isn’t doing nearly as well. They can’t afford to fight any longer.

“Banish him!” Jongdae yells. Xiumin turns his glassy eyes towards Jongdae, then, his gaze flits upward, where Minseok no doubt stands. Minseok echoes Jongdae’s command.

The eclipsical rips Baek’s wings from his body, then casts the daemon down into Hell, watching it dematerialize as it falls.

All of them are left panting as the room gradually resettles. Jongdae lets go of all his magical tension, feeling his eyelids droop and his body grow faint. Still, he remains on his feet, catching his breath. He meets Jongin’s eyes, then, looks up at the ranks of the hunters, most of whom are standing, clutching their weapons, as if they’d been primed to jump into the ring and help.

“That is only… _half_ of what we’re up against,” He says, voice ringing out. “You just witnessed the fracture of an eclipsical. What we just fought is only half of the Blood Moon. The other half now lies in Sefdalina’s hands.” He pauses to suck in a few more breaths. His whole body shakes. He won’t be awake for much longer. He drained _so much_ magic in that fight.

“It’s only a matter of time before Sefdalina summons the rest of him. The next time we see him, all I can say is to avoid him. We have to kill Sefdalina if we’re going to win. We cannot fight the eclipsicals she’s gathering.”

“What ones does she have?” Someone calls out from the stands.

Jongdae looks to Jongin, eyes sad. “She has Sehun, eclipsical of the wind, of change. She has Kai, eclipsical of communication, of interaction. She has Lay, the discordant eclipsical. She has Hyeon, the dark-half of the Blood Moon.”

“Who does that leave?”

“Junmyeon, eclipsical of water, adaptability, tactic,” He answers. “And Yixing… he’s not an eclipsical, but he’s powerful. He’ll be helpful, but still, not enough.”

The crowd chatters, talking amongst themselves about what they’ve got to prepare for. Jongdae’s glad to hear most of them sound committed to the cause. They’re still brave in the face of a losing war.

His vision swims.

He drops to the ground.

***

Yixing reforms in Baekhyun’s throne room, his body pulling itself back together, his mind slowly pulling itself back together. Even before he opens his eyes, he knows something’s wrong. When he blinks open his eyes, he meets Baekhyun’s gaze, where he sits leaning forward in his throne. The eclipsical’s grin is snake-like, as if he’s been expecting this. And yet, his eyes betray no recognition, at least, not to the degree Yixing would expect. 

He looks Yixing up and down, regarding him with a detached coldness. 

“Baekhyun?” Yixing questions, his voice calm despite his rising concern. The eclipsical tilts his head, nodding slightly, but does nothing to greet him properly. Instead, he waves him closer.

Yixing can’t help but feel like he’s approaching a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

He walks up to the throne, calm, collected, unnerved. “Come here,” Baekhyun coaxes, patting his lap. He’s arrogant, and not in the comfortable way Yixing knows. This is almost domineering, his gaze, his actions, his magic. He can feel it like a weight on his shoulders, tense, threatening. Still, he places his knee on the cushion of the throne between Baekhyun’s legs and leans into the eclipsical’s space. 

Baekhyun presses a kiss at his jaw, bites at his earlobe, and pulls Yixing more fully into his lap. Yixing’s skin crawls. There’s nothing about this exchange that’s sweet. Nothing passionate. He can feel his magic recoiling from Baekhyun. 

Again, something’s wrong, and Yixing still doesn’t know what it is.

Baekhyun turns him, so that his back is pressed to Baekhyun’s chest. His hands smooth up Yixing’s torso, leaving hot trails in their wake.

And then, one of his fingers lengthens into a claw, as sharp as a blade. Yixing knows this because suddenly, it’s pressed at his jugular. A stark warning.

His body tenses. “Baekhyun?” He asks again, eyes wide.

“My court will not be subservient to mortals,” Baekhyun whispers into Yixing’s ear, his breath sending goosebumps down Yixing’s flesh. “I’ve had my dukes out slaughtering daemons like you,” he hums, pressing down against Yixing’s throat.

He can feel ichor well up at the pressure point, then trail down his neck and over his chest. 

“I haven’t been making exceptions, even for the more… powerful members of my court. After all, even Authorities can be replaced,” he continues. Yixing’s blood runs cold. Before Baekhyun can say another word, Yixing is tugging at the dense magic surrounding them, materializing it, striking out with it.

He hears Baekhyun growl, lips pulled back in a snarl. Then, he brings all of his magic down upon the eclipsical. There’s a splintering noise, a shattering sound that ripples throughout the realm.

And then, all Yixing knows is darkness.

***

When Yixing rematerializes he feels like he’s drowning. In fact, he is… to some degree, at least. He’s underwater, which is a foreign feeling in and of itself since Baekhyun had resurrected him. He turns his face up towards the light and claws his way towards the surface, pulling great lungfuls of air once he breaches (a habit, not that he needs to _breathe_ ). 

He comes face to face with someone quite familiar, though it’s been a long while since Yixing’s seen him. “Junmyeon,” he recalls, as if he could ever forget the name of the eclipsical that healed Jongdae when they first fell into hell. He looks around, taking in the Hellenic style of Junmyeon’s realm—a far cry from the dark, gothic structures of Baekhyun’s. “Why am I here?”

“Your body had no where else to go,” Junmyeon says quietly, watching him with an impassive stare. “ _All_ of us felt Baekhyun’s realm go to rapture. With it, thousands of Hell’s Legions.” He looks Yixing up and down, then, quirks a smile. “How is it that _you_ caused that?”

“It wasn’t just my magic,” Yixing rushes to say, “all I remember is pulling _all_ of the magic in that room down. I wanted to escape. I was afraid he was going to—“

“Unmake you?” Junmyeon interrupts. Yixing pauses. He nods slowly. Junmyeon hums, “Yes, that’s possible.”

He stands up, offering Yixing his hand. Yixing takes it and allows Junmyeon to pull him to the edge of the pool, out onto clean-cut marble. In the center of the temple, a summoning circle is carving itself into the stone. Yixing eyes it warily.

“Your bondmate is helping some friends of his summon me. What do you think they’ll offer me?” Junmyeon says, waving his hand at the half-finished circle. “After all, I haven’t been pacted in _millennia_ , why start now. I think about all my brothers and realize that hell only started fluctuating when they began making pacts.”

“It wasn’t imbalanced when Baekhyun was fractured? When Chen was fractured?” 

“Not in my realm, nor in the hells. Their realms, perhaps, but I don’t travel much.”

“Don’t you owe Baekhyun favors? Back when I first met you, he called in one of them to save Jongdae’s life,” Yixing asks, suddenly worried about the summoning Jongdae plans to oversee. Junmyeon’s obviously not interested in the well-being of the world.

Junmyeon cocks a brow, “Are you Baekhyun?” At Yixing’s blank stare, he tuts his tongue, “then it doesn’t concern you.”

Yixing huffs, following Junmyeon out of the temple. His realm is so much brighter than Baekhyun’s, but, it’s just as empty. Now that he’s out on the temple’s outer steps, all the stretches out in the horizon is ocean.

“He acted like he didn’t even know me, but in the hells, he’s not fractured.”

“No, he isn’t,” Junmyeon agrees. “At least, not to the degree it appears up in the mortal plane. Still, he experiences the effects. A fracture causes and amnesiac wall to go up. When he repairs, the walls go down and the consciousness blend back together, which can be traumatic in and of itself, depending on what each fractured half gets up to.”

Yixing dips his toes in the ocean, frustrated.

“When they summon you,” Yixing says, “Keep in mind that a pact doesn’t have to be permanent. Baekhyun and I both chose permanent pacts. Not everyone wants an eternity.”

Junmyeon laughs as Yixing dematerializes and reappears next to Jongdae. He looks around. They’re in the Crucible again, but now it has concrete flooring and bears the damage of a great fight. He can even feel wards sparkling around the railing. 

He looks down at the ground, where Irene sits, drawing the circle meticulously from a depiction in Jongdae’s grimoire. “He doesn’t want to pact, but if you can offer him something worth his while… there’s a chance he’ll pact with you for the duration of the fighting,” Yixing offers. Irene gives him a glancing frown, then returns to the summoning circle.

Yixing turns to Jongdae. “What happened here? I know Baekhyun’s fractured, but…”

“She started summoning him right after you were banished. She summoned Hyeon and left us with Baek.” Jongdae points to the far side of the ring, where a crumpled husk of a creature lies, rotting. “We’ve left it there. Every time someone tried to go clean it up, it started to reanimate. So we’ve been keeping our distance. This is now our new summoning room,” he explains. 

Yixing walks over to the corpse. Indeed, the creature’s skull face rises up, its jaws hanging open and loose, and swings to face Yixing. The legs twitch and it begins to rise up. Its spine is shattered just above its hindquarters, though, and it remains immobile, despite all its snarling. The creature can do little more than snap.

It’s a lich, animated by residual magic. Yixing dealt with them when he was a hunter, though the magical presence was never so strong as to reanimate such a large creature, and, for so long. “How long has it been since you banished me?”

“A week, perhaps?” Jongdae answers. Yixing feels him cast a ward. A minute later, he feels another wash of magic. The sound of the ocean fills the ring. 

He turns to watch. 

Irene was a good choice for the summoning, because she doesn’t underestimate Junmyeon. In fact, though she seems greatly at ease on the edge of the circle, Yixing can tell all the way from the other side of the ring that she’s got her magic on standby, ready to lash out defensively.

He’s too far away to hear. But, a moment later, he feels Junmyeon cast a deafening spell, making it so that everyone that is not he or Irene is absent from their conversation. 

“You should put reconnaissance out for Sefdalina. Start tracking her whereabouts,” Yixing says, opening hell’s gate below the monster’s corpse and sending it tumbling out of their realm. Jongdae nods, taking his attention off of Irene’s summoning and up into the stands. Jongin leans against the railing, watching them.

“I’ve had patrols out for days looking for her. We’re thinking she’s going to be in the ninth district again, just because that’s most familiar to her, but…” He shrugs, “we’ve had nothing yet.”

Yixing sighs and reappears next to Jongin. “Carry on with the summoning,” he tells Jongdae. Then, he turns back to Jongin and they begin to walk. “Baekhyun made it sound like even if Sefdalina has been reanimated and is motivated by her living desires, she’s not… herself. The hells cause amnesia. Magical energy gets dispersed, miasm gets eaten, mana dissolves and reforms. She was _dead_ so she must have something missing.”

“You were dead, are you missing anything?”

“Baekhyun salvaged my memories and my magic before anything else. It’s why it took months for us to return. Sefdalina, unless something began resurrecting her _right_ after she died, couldn’t experience the same thing.”

“Well, that’s still another option. We can’t just rule something out completely because it’s improbable,” Jongin argues. 

_He’s right_. “Okay, well, scenario one. Sefdalina was resurrected as herself, then, yes, she would have attachments to Ninth District or its neighboring Seventh District, where she was born,” Yixing supposes. “But, you’ve been patrolling those areas for a week now? And you have no sign of her being there. So, let’s shelve that for now and think outside the box.” 

They break out into the sunlit street outside the gym. “Could whatever resurrected her feel something for a place in our realm?” Jongin asks.

Well, they _could_. But was it likely? “Lay is the leftover energy of a fractured eclipsical.”

“What eclipsical? And, why’d they fracture?”

Yixing sighs, “Daemons have a sort of marriage that… we don’t really understand, coming from an inherently human background. _Chen_ , the original eclipsical fractured as a result of his marriage bond with another eclipsical. That being said…” It’s far-fetched, but it’s the only tether, only _interest_ Lay might have with the mortal world.

“Chen is the beginning of an extremely powerful bloodline. Jongdae is a part of it. Sefdalina was rumored to be a part of it, though diluted. Perhaps, there’s a place that means something to the bloodline and therefore might mean something to Chen, and Lay by proxy.”

Jongin shakes his head, “How are we supposed to do that?”

“The hunters were obsessed with magical lineage. You have to have records of the great magical families, don’t you?” Yixing asks.

“We… yeah, we do still have those books.” 

Yixing holds out his arm and whisks them into the Federation’s library and record-room. The few hunters inside, working, look up, startled. At the sight of Jongin, however, they relax. “We need the ledger regarding the Kim Bloodline,” Jongin asks.

“Sir, that’s several books worth of—“

“Get us the oldest. We’re looking for people that would have been in direct contact with the daemon that began the bloodline. Perhaps, the human that the daemon initially interacted with.”

“Their lover?” Jongin asks as the hunters retreat into the back of the building to retrieve the requested books. 

Yixing shakes his head, “Not necessarily. An eclipsical can grant a madonna child, if that makes sense. Or, they can share their magic with a human out of mischief or self-interest. There’s really a dozen ways the bloodline could have began. Folklore around here was very set on the daemon haven taken a lover, but from what Baekhyun told me about Chen, I think it’s unlikely.”

“What do you think the purpose was, then?”

“Chen was the eclipsical of balance and chaos. It’s very possible he was simply balancing out the worlds. We don’t know what life was like before magic entered our plane. It could have been necessary to mediate between the heavens and the hells,” Yixing shrugs. 

The hunters return with the books: two, massive volumes. “So, here’s the deal,” the librarian says, pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose. “We have multiple conflicting sources for the origin of magic. These two volumes contain all of the origin tales, folklore, written record, oral record, _et cetera_.” 

She slaps both books down on the table, rattling dust off of their covers in a cloud. Yixing blinks while Jongin turns and coughs, an ugly, hacking sound. 

“Let’s do this quickly then,” Yixing murmurs, pricking open his thumb and casting a divination spell. Instantly, the book flips open, his hand wavering above it. Pages flip, back and forth, confused. Yixing has the blood of both ends of the bloodline within him. _Chen_ , resultant of Baekhyun’s magic, and _Jongdae_ , the last in a long line of pureblood witches, his bondmate. 

After several minutes of waiting, the book finally seems to settle on the closest match to Yixing’s ichor. The pages fall quiet, the book laid open on a page worn by time. The page is only about half full, compared to other pages.

Jongin crowds forward, reading the original ledger. “Seolhyun is listed as the head of the lineage,” he says. “Her birthplace is listed as…” He stops, his eyebrows knitting together. Yixing leans forward too, now, scanning the coordinates. 

“That’s Jongdae’s original home. It’s been abandoned for centuries now, but the wards keep it illusioned. He wanted it around. It had sentimentality.” Yixing straightens up. “We designed the magic around it to hide it even from other magical folk. Even if you had patrols in the area, you never would have noticed them.”

“Do you think that they’re actually there?”

“The house is a massive conduit. It’s built on a natural gold and silver deposit. If I were going to stage a massive magical war and I knew that house was available… I’d go there first.” 

Jongin falls quiet. “What should we do?”

“Don’t increase patrols, necessarily, but see to it that Jongdae charms some items to see through the glamour, that way we can actually start getting a look at things. In the meantime, we need to start preparing to fight there. And Jongdae needs to make a pact with Baek.”

***

The second time Jongdae attempts to summon Baek, he will not fail. This, he’s confident of. He _has_ to succeed, otherwise… 

He doesn’t want to think of it. Failure means his death, and he cannot die before they meet Sefdalina in a fight. If he dies, they lose everything. If he succeeds, even then, they aren’t safe. Sefdalina could grow confident enough that she tries to summon Baek, or she could simply overpower them without him.

They are evenly matched, for the most part. Of the active eclipsicals, Jongdae’s coven possess three—Junmyeon, Xiumin, and Dyo (the eclipsical of the mechanical universe, who Kyungsoo had belated pacted to, solely for the coming fight). Sefdalina has Kai, Sehun, Lay, and Hyeon on her side.

When it comes down to it, Jongdae _has_ to have Baek in order to even out the playing field entirely.

He lets out a breath, grounding himself. Behind him, Yixing’s magic pulses, a steady rhythm not unlike the tide. In front of him, candles glow and flicker. He’s back home, at their manor, where Yixing, Jongdae, and Baekhyun’s magic all sits in the very foundation. He’s hoping it will help ground Baek. Hoping it will help ground _him,_ because he has to win a battle of wills, this time. Alone, without Yixing’s help, without trickery. It has to be an honest triumph.

And that’s what terrifies him about the summoning at hand. He cannot rely on anything but himself. 

He knifes open a blood bag, handily donated by one of the hunters in their medical bay. Blood of an innocent. He watches it fill the obsidian chalice, set on the floor just in front of the mirror, in its designated place within the summoning circle. He cuts open a pomegranate next, setting the two halves on the left and right side of the mirror, fleshy-side open to the air. 

He uncaps a vial, allowing the cloying scent of myrrh to fill the room, acidic and permeating. He drops it liberally at the four cardinal directions of the circle. Then, he leans forward, into the mirror and speaks out his desire, as if it’s a secret: “I want _my bondmate_ back.” The mirror fogs as it accepts his truth.

The symbols and characters that make up the outer rim of the circle begin to glow. Jongdae begins to chant. His words flow quietly at first, just shy of hesitance, but, as the room begins to grow warmer and the hells drift closer to their realm, his voice gains volume. In the center of the circle, the mirror’s face begins to ripple, and a hand reaches up out of its depths. 

Baek crawls into their realm, the grey tinge of the veil hanging around his features up until he sits upright and casts the fabric off, illuminating the room with his brilliance.

The summoning is working, but Baek is not a calm summon. He’s not going to allow Jongdae to finish all the easily. The only warning Jongdae gets is the tinkling of a bell as Baek leans forward and _screams_. His voice feels made up of multiple different harmonies, and in circumstance other than this, Jongdae would think he could sing beautifully. As is, the sound is dissonant and splitting.

The daemon stretches forward, eyes gleaming like miniature stars. His hair floats around him as if he were underwater. His nails sink into the wood of the floorboards and begin to tear. 

Jongdae’s eyes roll back, his body convulsing as his magic combats Baek’s. Normally, light, airy, like this, Baek’s magic is constricting, heavy, cloying. It drowns Jongdae. 

His breath races, panic rising up his throat. His hands claw at his thighs, then up into his stomach, his chest, his throat, then, at his mouth, his body desperately trying to force his mouth closed, to stop his chant.

But behind him, ebbing and flowing, Yixing’s magic waits, quiet and unassuming. He’s not said a thing so far, at least, not to Jongdae’s knowledge, but knowing he’s there…

It helps him regain his function. He forces his hands back down to his sides, even shifting so that he’s sitting on them. The chant never stops, even as Baek begins to claw through the circle’s natural ward.

He doesn’t have much longer to go, even though he can feel his blood boiling, his magic fraying at the edges. In the distance, he can hear the crackle of lightning and the boom of thunder, but he cannot stop. Baek continues to scream, his voices loud and piercing. His hand finally reaches through the wards, fingers securing themselves around Jongdae’s neck and _squeezing_.

Jongdae’s supply of air cuts, but internally, he doesn’t stop. His chant continues, wordlessly even as his eyes begin to bulge and his face begins to turn blue. He _cannot_ give up. This is his last chance.

With his vision fading at the edges, he stares directly at Baek and grins. 

His incantation is complete. 

As if burned, Baek drops Jongdae to the ground, wailing. He retreats back inside the circle, his claws attempting to pry open the floorboards and call up a gate to hell so that he might avoid pacting, but he can do nothing. The incantation has trapped him in Jongdae’s realm until he is formally banished.

Jongdae coughs, pushing himself upright again, facing Baek now. He waits several minutes, just watching Baek panic and attempt to free himself from the binds of the circle, and catches his breath. Then, “You should eat and drink. I brought you offerings for a reason.”

Baek falls still, then, his head swivels so that his eyes can meet Jongdae’s, glaring and shiny. He looks ready to retort something, but wisely falls quiet, instead reaching out for the untipped obsidian chalice. He drinks deeply, messily, blood running down his chin, down his throat. Jongdae’s lip curls disdainfully.

He does not eat. 

“Suit yourself,” Jongdae says, relaxing now that Baek has calmed down. Unlike Jongdae’s first time summoning Hyeon, Baek’s magic is blatant. Where Hyeon was quiet, relaxed, always in control, Baek is out of control, but inherently powerful. It’s intimidating, but in a different manner than his calmer counterpart was. “I summoned you in order to pact.”

“And why would I want to pact?” Baek asks, voice hoarse. His tongue peeks out, swipes away the residual blood marring his chin. He smears his hand through the liquid on his throat, then sucks the crimson off of each finger.

Jongdae watches, stomach turning, though he would never let it show on his face. “Because you’re so much more powerful when you’re whole.”

Baek’s eyes flash with interest, but the emotion is quickly replaced by vitriol. “And you are so much more powerful when pacted,” he counters. “But your deal is unequal.”

“How so?” Jongdae clips.

“Sefdalina could offer me the same, but she can also offer me _freedom_.”

“I can offer you _marriage_ ,” Jongdae counters. “An equal exchange of magic. An equal exchange of loyalty.”

Baek scoffs, “A human cannot offer any marriage worth while.”

“If we win, you can have me,” Jongdae says. “You can take me into hell and slaughter me. We _need_ to win.”

“Where’s the romance in that. You mean _nothing_ to me.”

“But I meant something to Baekhyun! To the Blood Moon.”

“And I am not that!” Baek snarls, just as frustrated as Jongdae. “I want to be whole, but I want to be _free_ as well. I do not want to be pacted to some human!”

Jongdae blinks away tears of frustration—of hurt—his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Then we can offer you that. Pact with me for the fight. That’s all we ask of you.”

“And you will make me whole?”

“I will summon Hyeon in the aftermath, repair you, and set you free, yes.”

Baek watches him for any sign of a lie. There is none, though it pains Jongdae to set the daemon free. He wants them to _remember,_ he wants them to be his not because of some pact, but because of the attachment they made previously. They were like lovers, even if they were not married by a daemon’s standards. 

Baek slices open his palm with a sharp claw, and offers it out for Jongdae to take. Hesitantly, the summoner repeats the action with his knife, and grabs Baek’s hand.

Power ripples throughout the room. Their deal is sealed.

Baek disappears in a burst of light, leaving behind a mess of ripped floorboard, blood, and the shattered remains of Jongdae’s heart.

Yixing appears at his side, allows him to fold himself into Yixing’s robes, sobbing. “Dae-yah, I know it’s hard. He’ll remember fragments of it all once he’s whole. This isn’t the only chance you have with him. This doesn’t have to be the end all,” he soothes, patting Jongdae’s back.

Jongdae shakes his head, but sits up, catching his breath, blinking away his tears. “I need to rest, and then we need to go after her. Quickly, before she can prepare any longer.”

***

Yixing returns Jongdae to the hunter compounds, but just as quickly dematerializes. He expects to find himself opening his eyes in Junmyeon’s realm, maybe in Baekhyun’s realm (if it still exists), but instead, he finds himself… nowhere at all. Inky black surrounds him, as if he were suspended in space, and yet, he doesn’t feel a thing.

It’s… empty. Oblivion at its simplest point. At its most basic foundation.

And then, he senses something old. It’s a confused feeling, something that isn’t wholly aware of itself, isn’t wholly aware of _anything_ really. Its magic lashes out, strikes Yixing, and sets his soul on fire.

Until, he wills it not to hurt. Like in the hells, his will is powerful enough to stop the pain lacing through him. He’s able to return to that simple stasis of feeling absolutely nothing at all. 

In front of him appears a face, almost a mirror reflection of his own. Magic surrounds him, an empty kind, that Yixing knows he’d never fully understand—would never feel comfortable wielding.

Beneath him, reality begins to knit together. Earthy grass appears beneath his feet, leaves sway overhead, a stream rushes nearby. A few steps away, built overhanging the stream, is a small cabin. The face from the void also begins to take on a proper shape, not quite mirroring Yixing’s body, but similar. There’s a familiarity to him, as if this being is basing his physical appearance off of Yixing’s, but failing to make it seem like a truth. 

“Who are you?” Yixing asks when his voice finally comes to him. 

The figure looks at him, cocking its head carefully. It takes a long minute to respond, finally settling on, “ _Lay_.” At the utterance of the name, the world seems to arch towards him, revelling in the energy the name releases. Yixing watches Lay drop his hand down to caress the tall grass. 

There’s a simplicity here. It’s wholly different from how Baekhyun had described the eclipsical. Baekhyun had said he was an incomplete whole. Remnant of unpredictability. 

He says as much. “Baekhyun would consider you… unbalanced, I suppose,” he murmurs, following Yixing into the cabin. Sunlight streams in, lighting the cabin with a diffused, golden glow. In the lounge, two cushions have been set up, a table, kettle, and tea cups between them. Steam rises up from the two cups, the tea already having been poured.

Yixing takes a seat opposite Lay, hands immediately dropping to the cup, raising it up to his lips.

“Baekhyun doesn’t _know_ me, unfortunately,” Lay murmurs. “Nor does he know you… now.”

Yixing looks up sharply, eyes narrowing. “And what do you know of Baekhyun and I.”

“A forgotten memory is still a memory. What’s no longer recalled doesn’t have to be lost,” Lay says carefully, sipping his tea. Steam curls upward, caressing the planes of his face. Yixing watches, captivated.

He shifts in his seat, sipping, letting the hot tea wash down his throat, warm him from inside out. “So, you’re privy to all of Baekhyun’s forgotten loves?”

“And the others, not just his. Kai’s. Sehun’s. They were very attached to that human. To each other.”

“Do they not remember one another?” Yixing asks worriedly. According to Jongdae’s grimoires, Sehun and Kai had been a pair for as long as anyone could remember. Yixing can’t imagine them being ripped apart from one another.

Lay taps his fingers against the table, humming, “They don’t remember the details, but they’ve long become… one. Losing some memories won’t change that.” He looks up at Yixing, his gaze startlingly bright, strikingly sad. “But, for new love… I imagine it’s more traumatic.”

Yixing sips from his tea again, letting the warmth bring him back to himself. He feels drifty, like he’s not all together there. “It is. But, I imagine it hurts just as much for you. You’re the only one that remembers Chen and Baekhyun. At least, every detail, hm?”

Lay’s eyes flash, momentarily angry, and then, they settle, returning back to that blasé neutrality.

“Why are you doing this, then?” Yixing settles on. “Resurrecting Sefdalina, that is.”

Lay regards him cooly, “When magical output exceeds one’s magical input—miasm, mana, whatever it may be—the being ceases to exist in its own capacity.” He sets his tea cup down, swirling the tea around with the tip of his finger. Idle, smug. “It comes to the oblivion. The oblivion beyond even Baekhyun. It comes to me.” 

Yixing’s quiet.

“You have six natural _gods_ warring against one another, not to mention the fractured halves of the seventh natural god. How much _magic_ do you think they’ll expend? How much magic is needed to tear open the veil? How much magic is needed to coalesce the realms of the universe?”

Yixing’s eyes grow wide. He cannot speak, though, not when Lay is reaching out, banishing him into _nothing_. He’s returned to the Pit, the oblivion, his soul gradually knitting back together. Lay’s magic surrounds him, empty, empty, _empty_.

_Jongdae_ , he wails across their bond. 

He feels an uptick in Jongdae’s heart, distant as it is, and then, everything is dark.


	5. Rapture

“Yixing’s still not here,” Kyungsoo comments. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. Jongin’s gathered all of his seraphic hunters to join them. They will be the ones of most use during this fight. The other hunters will remain at the compounds and in the residential neighborhoods, prepared to fight should the hells merge with the mortal plane like they had centuries ago, when Sefdalina first ripped the veil. 

Other than the hunters, there are Jongdae’s most trusted friends, and their four, pacted eclipsicals. Dyo, the most obscure of the group, sits shadowed behind Kyungsoo, his skin like cracked earth, vines and vegetation growing from his shoulders and chest like a cloak. Junmyeon sits next to him, caressing the plants, looking at ease next to the glowering eclipsical. Xiumin sits far from them, on the opposite side of the room, with Baek at his side. The two of them are sharper, colder, than the other eclipsicals. Baek’s eyes meet Jongdae’s, cutting like knives. “The longer we wait, the more strength she gains,” Baek states curtly.

“We need Yixing to help tip the scales of the fight. She has the princes of hell and four eclipsicals on her side,” Jongdae protests. He can feel Yixing, but their bond isn’t as active as it typically is. He tries calling out a few times, but each time, his magic echoes out with no refrain. 

Baek sneers, looking away, gaze locking onto Dyo’s. He cocks his head. Dyo sighs, and for the first time since his pacting, he speaks, “Baek is right. We need to move soon. Otherwise, Yixing isn’t going to matter at all.” 

The witches look to Jongdae, waiting for his word. They’ll wait as long as they need, so long as it’s on his command. He’s not any older than Kyungsoo or Chanyeol, but wordlessly, they look to him for advice. He’s got experience with this. With battling the hells.

At that moment, he hears Yixing’s voice—distant, faint, dying. As soon as it ripples through Jongdae’s head, it leaves, a whisper, a breath, shallow and fading all too quickly. He blinks slowly, lets all the breath escape from his lungs.

He draws in another breath, and with this one, opens his mouth to speak, “Yixing won’t be joining us,” he says calmly, face set like stone. “Let’s go now. It’s no use waiting.” Everyone watches him curiously, noticing the change in countenance, but knowing it’s not the time to question it.

They leave as one. Baek takes to the skies, wings stretching out across the night sky. His skin turns the color of the night sky, speckled with stars, a natural camouflage against anyone looking up from the ground. Xiumin molds into the frost in the late, winter fog, his body disappearing. Junmyeon does the same, becoming one with the fog, nearly transparent to the eye. Dyo crumbles into nothing, but, by the shake beneath their feet, he is still with them, beneath the surface. 

The hunters move behind them, holding up the back of their coalition. Jongdae works point, leading everyone through the winding city streets until they reach the neighborhood of his glamoured house.

Over time, it had become known as a haunted place. This whole neighborhood. Looking at it now, there’s no doubt why such rumours would arise. Not when the fog adds to the uncanny look of it all. Telephone poles rot. Lanterns flicker, broken long ago and never fixed. Jongdae stares outwards, at his home sitting at the end of the street. The hunters and witches will see it as a collapsed lot, too dangerous to warrant exploration, but too much trouble to ever knock down. 

Jongdae outstretches his hands and rips the glamour away, the magic splitting and tearing like the end of a thread when cut. The hunters watch, eyes wide, as Jongdae removes the cloth covering his family home.

In the space left behind, it’s easy to see the corruption growing over the house. 

As soon as the glamour is gone, the light fixtures that still work on this long stretch of street begin to flicker and burst. A gust of wind rushes down the street, tugging at their hair and clothes. “Sefdalina is the target!” Jongdae reminds, his voice ripped away by the wind. Still, his friends understand. They’ve gone over the plans countless times before.

Sehun is the first to challenge them, rippling down the street like a wraith. Before he can reach their group and wreak havoc, the earth groans and Dyo reaches up from the broken pavement, catching Sehun in his tracks, throwing him to the ground. They begin to wrestle and so the fight begins. 

Kai appears in their midst next, his hands reaching into the chest of one of the hunters. They don’t even have time to scream before Kai eviscerates them, hands tearing their innards outward. Jongin’s mouth falls open in shock, and then, anger overtakes his features. He throws a seraphic spear at the eclipsical, watches as it _barely_ misses, but catches Kai’s attention.

The two of them meet in a deadly dance, anger and betrayal lacing all of Jongin’s actions, glee alighting Kai’s. 

Jongdae doesn’t have time to watch for him. Not with the eclipsicals coalescing next to one another, fighting tooth and nail, everyone pacted, no one given the option to fail. 

He runs forward, Baek watching his approach from above.

He only stops when he sees the shadows rising up in front of him, the air bubbling, the light warping. Hyeon stands tall, skin like glass, hell hounds barking at his feet.

He doesn’t even give Jongdae the respect of a fight. Instead, he points, wordlessly, and the dogs come tearing at Jongdae, paws eating up the ground. He conjures a blade, long and wicked, and slices through the first of the animals, throwing himself to the side to avoid the second of the dogs. A third growls, snarling, and slavers over his boot. It takes his leg in its jaws, no doubt capable of _crushing_ his bone. 

Then, it whimpers, disintegrates, and disappears back into the Hells to reform. Jongdae looks up. Watches as Baek slams into Hyeon at full force, his voice rising with all the volume of the sun. The two eclipsicals collide, their magic bursting outwards like a wave. They both dematerialize, but, considering how their magic considers to cloy Jongdae’s senses, they are nearby, in limbo, battling out their consciousness rather than their physical bodies.

He stands in time to slaughter an imp that has appeared. Looking outwards, other hellions have begun to stream onto the street, their claws scraping on the pavement, their drool flung into the air, their eyes burning like fire.

He cuts down a second imp that throws itself at him and then begins to walk further up towards his family home. The magic is all unfamiliar now. He doesn’t even recognize a trace of his mother within the foundation, no matter how near he grows.

It causes his heart to ache. Hasn’t he lost enough already. 

A witch appears on the porch, her hair whipping around wildly. Her eyes are dark as coal, her skin a pasty white, corpse-like, unnatural. Behind her, other witches begin to appear, their eyes bright with interest, with adrenaline.

It’s been so long since Sefdalina was an issue. So long since Jongdae had to deal with her followers. He casts a wicked spell, sending one of the witches tumbling off the porch, her body seizing and convulsing. 

And all Sefdalina does is laugh, her voice ringing out like a song. Jongdae grits his teeth. Someone brushes against his side. “Jongin banished Kai,” Kyungsoo murmurs, “Sehun managed to win out of Dyo, but barely. Someone else is handling him now.” Both he and Jongdae look at the house, at the witches that have chosen that chaos is better than order.

Fire streaks over their heads, something akin to a Molotov cocktail shattering on the porch and dousing the old, wooden house in flames. Sefdalina steps through them, out onto the steps, and then, farther, onto the street, her magic snaking out in front of her.

Jongdae throws up a protective ward before it can snap into them, but from then on, it’s a dance. Offensive spell, defensive spell. Chanyeol appears near them, sword glimmering in the moonlight, potions belted to his side. He’s covered in ichor and blood, but otherwise alive. Jongdae’s glad.

Still, he can’t give Chanyeol much attention, not with the witches in front of him growing in number and intensity. They meet him with increasingly more violent spells, just waiting for an opening. 

Kyungsoo falls first, thrown to the ground by a spell that rips through his senses. That blinds him to the fight at hand. Jongdae knows how to reverse the spell, but he can’t do anything right now. Instead, he merely steps in front of Kyungsoo, guarding him as best he can. He puts up a ward, jerking his head at Chanyeol.

The witch rushes towards him, potions clinking. He throws a mana-draining brew in Sefdalina’s direction. For a moment, the attack lulls. Chanyeol doesn’t have to be told what to do. He grips Kyungsoo’s arm and they disappear from view. Chanyeol will return to the fight soon. He knows they can’t afford to lose too many. 

Jongdae readies another vicious spell, aimed for one of the cultists, then, gasps as something collides with his back and sends him sprawling.

Baek throws Hyeon onto the pavement in front of Sefdalina. In front of them all, he slaughters his other half, painting the pavement with black ichor that dazzles in the light. The triumphant eclipsical _roars_ , his jaw unhinging as he snarls at Sefdalina. 

He is so focused on her, on toying with his prey, that he doesn’t notice the night sky above him reaching down. 

Jongdae looks away before he can watch what _must_ be Lay crush Baek’s skull between his pretty fingers. 

Baek’s magic doesn’t just fade, it cuts away, completely absent in _seconds_. It has Jongdae reeling, shocked, but it also has his body convulsing. He falls to his knees, unwillingly, staggering, the pain ripping through him. His magic frays, boiling, bubbling, and his pain just keeps growing. He waits for it to crest, and it simply _doesn’t_. It just grows and grows, up until he’s curled against the ground _screaming_ for it to stop.

His voice breaks, throat worn thin. In his peripheral, he watches Sefdalina approach. Wonders if this is what it was like for Yixing to die by her hand. 

He’ll not come back, Baekhyun no longer _knows_ him. He’ll not take the time to weave Jongdae back together. He’s not even sure if it would be worth returning, at that point. He doesn’t want to watch his friends die and be able to do nothing about it. He doesn’t want to watch humanity dissolve into chaos. Doesn’t want to watch the hells tear apart all he knows and holds true. 

Then, Sefdalina is thrown to the ground. A monster, skeletal, sand-like, tearing her apart. Jongdae can almost hear her screams over the din of all the other fighting. 

Yixing.

Tears blur his vision, but Jongdae still pushes himself upright, watching with growing amazement as Yixing cuts through their adversaries, clearing a radius around them. Behind him, he hears the fight between the witches, the eclipsicals, the hunters grow quiet as they all look to the scene at Sefdalina’s corpse.

Yixing reaches up into the sky and rips the hands in the dark down to the street. _Lay_ collapses onto the cobble, monstrous, chimeric. He rises up, a conglomeration of arms, torsos, legs, hands, faces. Nothing seems to fit. Everything seems to fit. 

The beasts’ jaws unhinge and it snarls at Yixing. 

The two monsters meet in the middle, their magic bursting down the street, whipping Jongdae’s hair from his face. It’s so powerful a blast that Jongdae’s jewelry snaps and blows away in the wind, leaving him unprotected and injured. Unhealing.

Still, while Yixing battles Lay, Jongdae stands on shaking legs and lurches past them, dragging himself up the steps of his old home. Just inside glimmer the summoning circles that started it all. Hyeon’s is the older, worn and faded. Baek’s is nearly as old, but it still possesses some of its novelty. Linking the two of them, like a Venn diagram, is the Blood Moon’s circle.

Jongdae conjures an athame. It’s not meant to cut and bleed for a summoning, but he needs to direct his spiritual energy right into the circle. He doesn’t have time for real sacrifices or offerings.

He only has himself.

He cuts himself with the slender knife and presses his palm in the center of the circle, a prayer whooshing out of his lips. It has a gentle cadence. A natural call. This summoning will kill him, even if successful. It’s necessary, though. They need to bring down Lay and Yixing will not be able to do it alone.

The circle blazes as it accepts Jongdae’s sacrifice of self. 

His magic bleeds out of him, long and slow, pulsing into the lines of the circle. His pact. His life for the reunification of the Blood Moon as one. 

He’s already completed his half. If the laws of magic are secure, Baekhyun’s completion of the pact will be forced as well. 

***

The Blood Moon rises above the corpse of its summoner, eyes bright, red, shining. It steps over the body at the foot of its circle, trailing its fingers through the mana that lingers about, and makes its way out of the house.

It reaches into the magic energy surrounding the streets and rips, much like Yixing had done in his realm. He feels Lay’s magic snap, then mold to adapt to Baekhyun’s intrusion. It will not be easy to beat him. It will be a battle of wills.

But Baekhyun and Yixing are a will in one. Their magic joins and it _sings._ Bells coalesce with hounds which join with the crash of the ocean, the chime of a clock. 

_Unification._ Becoming one.

An authority joined with the highest power in its court—its king, its _god._

Their magic rises as one and crests overtop the discordant eclipsical. It tears him off of the mortal plane and into the oblivions, where their assault continues. It is will against will. A newfound bond against the remnants of a broken one. 

And in the midst of it all, while Yixing commands Baekhyun’s magic against Lay in their war, Baekhyun’s consciousness focuses elsewhere, pulling the threads of life, of magic, of fate. _Chen_ ’s blood begins to mingle with their magic, finding solace in the remnants held in both Baekhyun and Lay.

Jongdae begins to resurrect. Jongdae, Authority of the Sun, of Brightness, of Light, of Day. Perfect match to Yixing’s Authority of Moon, of Darkness, of Dark, of Night. 

His resurrection is welcomed immediately by the eclipsical who is raising him from the dead, but also by his mate. Unification belongs to the hells, and the three of them truly belong in this moment.

Yixing tears at Lay’s magic, separating the corruption from the older magic, that which pulses with the familiarity of Baekhyun’s or Jongdae’s bloodline. He separates _Chen_ from _Lay_ and returns Chen’s magic to the fold. He listens to Lay’s pain, to his panic, to his sorrow.

He is an eclipsical born from the death of an ancient bond.

But Yixing and Jongdae. They are born from the convergence of that ancient bond, perhaps generations later, but as pure as it had been back at its original conception.

Yixing’s magic _consumes_ Lay’s. 

And then. Everything is quiet. Everything is calm. 


	6. Coalescence

The way of the world is that everything comes back. It’s circular. A constant flow of magic, of motion. Life and death, night and day, love and loss—cyclical, everlasting. In the oblivion, Baekhyun rises whole once more. His soul settled and relaxed. His realm patches back together, woven through his fingers, built on the remnants of a realm lost to the void.

_Lay_ no longer rules the void. It belongs to Baekhyun once more. The mediator, the glue. The order of the oblivions has shifted, changing, warping to adjust to the creation of two _new_ gods. The eclipsical of light, somewhat wild, somewhat destructive, all together powerful. It is a burst of adrenaline, but also the thrum of the heart in the midst of passion.

Jongdae, the end of a divine bloodline. A divine himself. He is the Sun, he is the Storm. 

Then, the quieter, more subtle but equally powerful eclipsical of the dark. Healing, nurturing, knowledgeable. It is the tenderness of a lover’s kiss, but also the bereavement of a love lost. 

Yixing, born of the heavens, kissed by the hells, home to the void. He is the Moon, he is Life and Death incarnate.

And between them, the void itself. No longer the Blood Moon, destructive and prone to fracture. But the void, empty, relaxed, the very scales by which the order of the worlds measure itself. He is the ultimate judge and jury, the unbiased voice, the mediator between the two, volatile new eclipsicals. He is the arcane. Magic made flesh.

He is the memory of it all. 

Weaver of the worlds. 

His obsidian towers rise up in the distance, the silver sands building into being, connecting the towers, covering some, revealing others. The beasts of his realm begin to breath once more, skittering around in the wasteland.

Baekhyun’s realm has always been a land of aging and erosion. It has always been the image of times long past, times yet to even come. Perhaps, this is how the balance always should have been. Would he have fractured in the first place had he had two halves to balance his magics out?

It doesn’t matter now. Not when he has Jongdae and Yixing. Not when their magic is separate but one. A unified being. 

They did not have a ceremony, but as Baekhyun patches up their realm, he gives it a little more beauty. Moon flowers bloom in his palace gardens. He pulls gossamer beasts out of the sky, their fur like the starscape, and sets them free in the gardens to beautify everything.

As he repairs his realm, he feels Yixing reach out and add his touch. Great silver trees, plains of silver grass, sprout beneath his touch, giving the land a more lively look.

Jongdae watches it all, then reaches out as well, adding his threads of magic to the mix. Rivers of white fire cut through the land, beautiful and shining, lightning the landscape all that much more.

They both put their influence over Baekhyun’s obsidian towers. Jongdae turns them to glittering black monoliths. Yixing gives them an incandescence that makes them seem like a mirage. The moons shine in the sky, haloing the palace, the sun high above them both, red and gleaming in a sea of black stars. 

Baekhyun whisks all of them inside, his laughter ringing out across the palace court. Some of the hellions that make Baekhyun’s realm their home look up, grinning, barking, shouting their greetings as their lord returns home. Baekhyun greets them all, smiling, looking as if he belongs. There is no suffocating effect as there is when he is fractured. It’s all him and his love for his home.

His subjects greet both of the eclipsicals on his arms as well. Bowing deep, voices quiet with fear and awe. Jongdae dazzles with robes of glimmering white and gold, twinkling and iridescent. Baekhyun, in robes of black, an inky glimmer to them, reminiscent of oil when it hits the light. Then, Yixing, in robes of midnight blue, trimmed with the silver of the moonlight, gossamer and light, beautiful and untouchable.

They all wear crowns. Yixing of his moonflowers. Jongdae of sunflowers diamond. Baekhyun of scrap metal and silver bells.

They are the Kings of the Sabbat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the strangest period of writing I’ve ever performed in my life. I’ve always wanted to go ahead and add a continuation of The Ballad of Bells and Hounds but I’ve never really sat down to do it. And now that I finally have… this took perhaps a week to write (and honestly that might show), but I felt like it was much needed to break some of the blocks I’ve been experiencing with my other works. Especially since I’m so fond of this universe in the first place. It’s literally like my baby. Anyways, I have some closing tid-bits for those of you that are interested. Uh, who knows, I might write more companion works for this verse in the future (maybe one on Chanyeol and Kyungsoo or Sehun, Kai, and Jongin. I really don’t know)! 
> 
> • Jongin banishes Kai in the fight, however, later summons him with Kyungsoo and Jongdae’s help. They pact again, but Sehun does not return to Jongin, choosing to remain in the hells.
> 
> • Jongdae and Yixing essentially take the place of Baek and Hyeon, while Baekhyun becomes something like Lay was. He mediates between the other two’s more extreme natures, making their relationship balanced (whereas Chen and Baekhyun’s was imbalanced).
> 
> • Kyungsoo and Chanyeol become the new leaders of the Universal Coven, but they don’t take on the title King of the Sabbat any longer out of respect for Jongdae and Yixing’s sacrifices to keep the balance of the worlds. The Federation and the Coven are closer than ever.
> 
> • Minseok and Xiumin make a permanent pact instead of continuing to renew their vows of a sort. Xiumin moves into the mortal plane almost completely in order to remain near Minseok.
> 
> • Irene and Junmyeon remain in contact. Junmyeon helping Irene with her divination. He doesn’t pact again, though, and she respects that.
> 
> • Baekhyun’s realm hosts a unification ceremony in order to introduce the three unified eclipsicals to the hells. It’s the largest celebration the hells have seen since Sehun and Kai’s unification. 
> 
> All in all, thank you so much for reading! It means a great deal to me that you'd take the time to sit down and read my work. I might be slow on replying to comments, but I do intend to respond to each of them!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think via comments/kudos! Thank you so much for reading! You can find me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/sophluorescent)


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